Trifecta
by Short Work
Summary: After Buffy kisses Spike at the end of the musical spell, Spike tries to put some distance between them to avoid getting his heart stomped on. But Buffy knows his love isn't real, and nothing will ever convince her otherwise. ...Right?
1. Once More, Skip the Feeling

_This isn't real._

 _But I just want to feel._

Those were the last words that Buffy blurted out in song right before making out with a soulless vampire, and those were the words ringing through her head like an annoying commercial jingle as she went to meet Spike the next day. She barged into his crypt during the daytime, knowing he would be there obsessing over the kiss they had shared until he could track her down and heckle her over it. Well Buffy wasn't about to wait around and let him catch her off guard. She was going to nip this thing in the bud before Spike got the wrong idea. Now she just had to find the stupid vampire.

He wasn't in the top level where she usually found him loafing around, so he had to be in the lower level. Where his bed was. Where he had at one time kept a Buffy shrine. Where he had chained her up and confessed his 'love'.

 _This isn't real._

 _But I just want to feel._

The lyrics repeated in Buffy's head again as she braced herself for climbing down into the lower level to find Spike. She could do this. She _could_. She was the one in charge of this situation, and she was going to keep it that way. She was going to face him head on, meet him on her terms, and set everything straight. No matter what he happened to be doing down there.

Buffy climbed down the ladder, unsure why she chose now to suddenly try to be as quiet as possible. It was almost totally dark down there, with only one candle lit by the bedside. She tiptoed toward it carefully, trying not to crash into anything in her way. It wasn't until she was almost right next to the bed that she realized Spike was lying there, sleeping soundly on his back with an arm casually tossed over his eyes.

Naked.

Or naked from the waist up at least, since the bed sheets were leaving his lower half to her imagination. And from the waist up he was _gorgeous_.

No, not gorgeous. Undead monster. Yucky. Just because he was covered in buttery candlelight that outlined every muscled plane of his body with shadows didn't mean he was suddenly attractive. Or that the little detail of his creamy pale skin lying against the red sheets like a gothic painting wasn't an especially beautiful image. And that arm stretched up over his face like an invitation to run her hands down his chiseled abs didn't tempt her in any way.

 _This isn't real._

 _But I just want to feel._

Buffy shook her head slowly. She was practically drooling over him. Pretending he was anything but dreamy was a fool's errand. Whatever that means.

It had been hard enough for her to ignore his perfect physique when he was fully clothed, especially since she had been spending so much time around him after she was brought back from the dead. She didn't think she was in any danger of suddenly becoming attracted to him. She mostly just hung out with him because it was almost as good as being alone. Talking to Spike was as like shouting into the night sky, just a way for Buffy to get stuff off her chest. It wasn't like she was talking to a _real_ person.

But the more she got to know him, the easier it was to forget that he wasn't alive. And not dismissing him outright might have led to some vivid dreams involving her getting to know Spike in the _biblical_ sense.

Buffy took a step closer to his bed, one hand mindlessly reaching out towards his sleeping body. This quiet moment, where she could just drink in the the beauty that she should be disgusted by, no sound or time or people to remind her how very wrong she was... This could be one of those vivid dreams. She wondered if she could convince herself it really was and climb into the bed with him.

Most of her dreams about him started out innocently enough like this. A lot of the time they began by reminding her of the good things Spike had done for Buffy and her family. One dream started with that first kiss she gave Spike for refusing to hand Dawn over to Glory, but instead of leaving, dream Buffy kissed her way down his body. Another dream involved the two of them commiserating over drinks in Spike's crypt, and then progressing to a game of strip poker. Her most recent dream had Spike stopping her in her tracks as she started to spin out of control from her climactic dance, then singing to her as he slowly slipped his hands beneath her clothes.

Buffy pulled her outstretched hand back, only just catching herself in time before she accidentally touched him. How could someone without a body temperature be so incredibly hot?

 _This isn't real._

 _But I just want to feel._

Spike let out a low rumble deep in his chest as he rolled over onto his side, a long stretch of bare leg creeping out from underneath the covers. His arm had slipped down off his face, uncovering agitated brow lines, long lashes pressed tightly together, and lips curled into a pout. He must have been dreaming about something. Buffy lifted her hand to her own lips, imagining that her fingers were Spike's lips. She had tried hard not to think about that kiss she had shared with Spike. But seeing him here like this, so vulnerable and beautiful, transported her right back to that alley behind the Bronze.

 _This isn't real._

 _But I just want to feel._

And oh boy, did Spike's lips on hers make her _feel_. Not the larger than life, movie screen emotions that the rising finale verse of music wanted to suggest. And not rainbows or fireworks or anything like when she had kissed Angel or Riley. With Spike, she just felt _fire_.

Spike's skin hadn't been warm to the touch. His hands on her shoulders weren't tender. His mouth wasn't gentle against hers. But Buffy felt the fire burn hotter all the same. Or maybe that was _why_ she felt it burning so brightly. It was purely physical, with no pesky heart to get in the way. Instead the fire just raced straight down to her core. She had doubled down on the kiss, pressing closer up against him, feeling the tight lines of his body on hers. Buffy had burned so hot that she almost forgot why she shouldn't have been kissing him in the first place. It was hard to be reasonable when hit with sensations like those.

But Buffy had known that if she kept kissing him much longer, she wouldn't be able to blame in on the spell.

She had jerked back away from the kiss, keeping her hands on his shoulders. Looking into Spike's eyes for a reaction had been a huge mistake. An intense cocktail of awe, uncertainty, and outright need had been mixing in there, daring her to kiss him again. The eyes were the window to the soul, but Spike's did a heck of good job of hiding the fact that he didn't have one.

Buffy had spun around and bolted off down the alleyway, not bothering to look back when she heard him call after her. She knew he wasn't going to chase her. If there was one thing Spike had been really good at since she came back to life, it was letting her wallow in her own misery. But now that she had opened the door for Spike just a little too far, she wasn't sure he wasn't about to come stomping in with his big ugly boots.

 _This isn't real._

 _But I just want to feel._

As soon as she had left the alleyway in her thoughts, she found herself back in the crypt by Spike's bedside, her fingers still on her lips as she relived that kiss. Buffy's hand trailed down her chest and over her stomach, before it came to rest on her thigh. Even just thinking about that moment made the fire under her skin flame up again. She shook her head hard and backed away quietly, suddenly flustered. She didn't know why she thought she could face him head on when that kiss had made her practically weak in the knees. She shouldn't be confronting him, she should be avoiding him. She got herself up the ladder and out of the crypt as quickly and quietly as she possibly could, then broke into a run once she was out in the daylight, the final line of the song playing in her head every step of the way.

 _Where do we go from here?_

She should probably just keep running.

* * *

"What do you mean there's already a Trio?" Andrew asked.

"Exactly what I said," Warren answered, walking into their secret lair. He set three different decorative cups on the table where Jonathan kept his magic kit and dug around for the spell salts. When he found the pouch, he started pouring out large circles of salt in a triangular formation on the floor. "Except instead of three super-geniuses they're three demons who collect souls or something like that. I didn't get all the details on their methods. A guy at the demon bar down across the tracks got real spooked when I told him I was part of the Trio. Wouldn't stop talking about them." He picked up the cups off table again and started placing them in the middle of each of the circles.

"Those cups aren't for what I think they're for, are they?" Jonathan asked, eying them suspiciously. One was a little porcelain cup with pink flowers painted on the side, one was a wooden cup engraved with a swirly pattern, and one was a tin cup with a bunch of dotted imprints forming the shape of a heart. The cups looked normal enough, it was what Warren was doing with them that made him question.

"Yeah, they are. We're gonna summon them," Warren replied, pulling a bag out of his pocket and dropping what looked like frog's feet into each cup.

"Wait, what?" Jonathan asked. "There's a triumvirate of demons infamous enough to just be known as the Trio and you want us to summon them?"

"Yeah, I got the instructions right here," Warren said, holding up a sheet of notebook paper covered in chicken scratch. He snatched a piece of charcoal from Jonathan's kit and drew a pentagram in the middle of the three salt circles. "The guy at the bar knew all about it."

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea, guys," Andrew said, toeing the circle of salt carefully.

"No, it's ok, it's a binding spell," Warren quickly countered. "If we summon them so that they're stuck here, then we can just keep doing our thing and being the new Trio."

"Wouldn't it just be easier to pick a new name? I mean, the Triumvirate sounds pretty cool too," Jonathan said.

"If you want people to think we're a bunch of ancient Roman magistrates," Andrew replied with a sneer.

"No, guys. We're already the Trio. _The_ Trio," Warren stressed. "We just gotta get these original guys out of the picture and then we're set. It'll be easy. Look, it's not even that hard of a spell." He handed Jonathan the instructions, and Andrew poked his head over his shoulder to read along.

"We have to spill our own blood?" Andrew squeaked.

"That's pretty common in summoning spells for high-level demons," Jonathan explained. "This one actually looks... pretty easy. Maybe they're not all that dangerous. Though what does it mean when it says don't let the water mix?"

"No idea. It'll probably make sense once we complete the spell. Come on, let's _do_ this," Warren said, grabbing an x-acto knife off the table and moving to stand over the porcelain cup. "The instructions said I needed three chalices, so I figured my mom's nicknacks were more chalice-y than my coffee mugs."

"What about your Episode I collectors glass set?" Andrew asked, grabbing a razor blade from his model kit table and moving over to the wooden cup.

"Dude, I'm not about to bind those to a bunch of demons!" Warren balked. "Those are actually worth something. These are just a bunch of antique family heirlooms."

"Well, if something goes wrong," Jonathan sighed, grabbing a pair of scissors and taking his place by the tin cup. "We could always skip town and let Buffy clean up the mess."

"The Slayer is gonna wish a few demons were all she had to worry about by the time we're done with her," Warren replied. "Now cut."

All three cut into the palms of their hands at the same time, dripping a few drops of blood into each cup. Almost immediately, the ground inside each of the salt circles began to glisten with moisture, before shimmering and waving as a deep pools of water seemed to form right on the concrete floor. Warren, Jonathan, and Andrew stepped back and moved to one side of the room, watching as the three pools swirled and splashed. All at once, a hand shot of each of the pools, and grabbed for the surface on the edge of the salt circles.

"Eep!" Andrew yelped, as one of the hands groped around a little too close to his shoe. The trio moved farther back by the stairs to put some distance between themselves and the pools, just as three figures emerged from the waters and stood on top of the rippling surfaces.

"Are they really... demons?" Jonathon asked, wondering at the California-standard appearance of the men they had summoned. They looked just like three identical triplet humans, roughly in their fifties, dressed in normal human clothing.

One wore a swim shirt, trunks, and flip flops, with a bandana in his hair and aviator sunglasses nestled on top of his head. Another wore khaki pants, a blue plaid button down shirt, and a white lab coat. The last wore torn jeans, a tie-die shirt, a fringe leather vest, and purple-tinted teashade glasses. They had apparently called upon dark forces to bring forth a surfer, a doctor, and a hippie.

"I feel like we just summoned a 'walks into a bar' joke," Warren said, as the three 'demons' looked all around the room before looking at each other.

"Their hair is kinda green, I guess," Andrew suggested. Though the Hippie had shoulder length hair and a long goatee, the Doctor had ear length hair parted down the middle and a trim goatee, and the Surfer sported wavy jaw length hair under his bandana and a five o'clock shadow of a goatee, all three had a dark mossy color to their hair, with a salt and pepper texture to it. Weirdly enough, their hair was the only part of them that was wet.

"Where are we, man?" the Hippie asked, looking around.

The Surfer looked at his wrist as if he were checking the time, but he only seemed to be wearing a beaded bracelet. "Sunnydale, California," he answered, apparently finding the answer there.

"The Hellmouth," the Doctor added.

"The Slayer!" the Hippie realized, raising his eyebrows and grinning widely. "Heavy."

"Now _there's_ a soul for our collection," the Surfer nodded back at him, matching his smile.

The Doctor poked a finger past the perimeter of his salt circle, only for a shimmery magic field to push back against him. "I seem to be bound to this circle," he said.

"Looks like we're gonna have to cut out one at a time," the Hippie said, poking at his own magic barrier.

"Hey, nobody's going anywhere," Warren called to them, while Jonathan and Andrew snapped their attention to him. The three demons went quiet and looked in their direction for the first time. It was then that the three boys realized the demons' eye color was an unsettling blood-red.

"You bros are the ones who summoned us?" the Surfer asked, lifting his chin in their direction.

"Yeah," Warren nodded confidently. No way was he about to let some freaky eye-color weird him out. "All three of us did."

"We can help you," the Doctor said, offering them a friendly smile.

"Everything happens for a reason, man," the Hippie nodded sagely.

"You bringing us here can make your lives totally righteous," the Surfer said.

"Or very unfortunate," the Doctor added, turning his head to the side.

"We're just doing our part to help the common man," said the Hippie.

"If you don't stand in our way, we can do you a major solid," the Surfer offered.

"Or... you can end up like the last fellows that summoned us," the Doctor said.

"What happened to the last guys?" Jonathan asked, blurting out the question before he could stop himself.

The three demons turned their crimson eyes towards him and smiled affably before replying in perfect unison, "They're gone."

The three boys went very still. Jonathan could have sworn he felt the temperature in the room drop by a degree.

"Listen man, is the Slayer harshing your vibes?" the Hippie asked, breaking the tension.

Warren hesitated a moment before answering. "She's in our way."

"A Slayer soul would be the most extreme treasure for our collection," the Surfer suggested.

"And our collecting of her soul would leave her... disinclined to impede you," the Doctor said.

"So you wanna be tight with us?" the Hippie asked, opening his hands out to them.

The three guys looked at each other, Andrew nodding quickly and almost imperceptibly. Warren looked at Jonathan, who gave him an unsure look. He didn't want to find out what happened to the last guys that got in the Trio's way. "That's probably a good idea," Warren said, looking back at the demons.

"You didn't really have any other choice," the Surfer replied with a smirk.

"I think introductions are in order," said the Scientist, holding out his hand.

"I'm the Joiner," said the Hippie.

"I'm the Seeker," said the Surfer.

"I'm the Refiner," said the Doctor.

"We're the Trio," they finished, all at once.

"Yeah..." Warren said, looking at the three of them carefully. "You definitely are."

* * *

Though patrolling wasn't exactly blowing her hair back lately, Buffy was glad to use it as an excuse to be alone with her thoughts. At least, that's what she wanted at first when she began her route through the cemetery. Since her thoughts kept drifting back to that kiss she shared with Spike, she was starting to figure her thoughts maybe weren't the best company right about now.

Buffy had so much else she needed to be worrying about instead. She needed to find a permanent solution for her finances, she had to figure out a way to keep Dawn out of trouble, and she needed to learn how to be comfortable around her friends again now that the cat was out of the bag about them tearing her out of heaven. Only... it was hard to feel anything about those issues other than a dull indifference.

It wasn't like she _didn't_ care about all these very important and totally adult matters. She just... hadn't really been chomping at the bit for more responsibility. She had enough on her plate _before_ she died. It felt a little like she had been brought back from the dead just because everyone wanted her to save them all over again. Like her friends couldn't just let her rest, or her sister couldn't figure out how to grow up without her, or the whole rest of the world couldn't just give her a freebie for saving it half a dozen times or so.

The only person who _hadn't_ felt like he was always expecting something from her was Spike. Now that she had gotten all smoochy with him though, she had probably messed that up too. The question was just how much damage was done. He was pretty much the only person she could stand to be around these days. If Buffy had her way, she would just pretend the whole thing didn't happen and go back to being two people comfortable being miserable together.

That would be easiest, but there was a giant wall in the way of that happening because of that darn kiss. A kiss that she pretty much initiated herself, because being with Spike was one of the only things that made her not feel like an alien in her own skin. A kiss that she wanted, because she knew that if she couldn't feel anything emotionally, she could at least do it physically. A kiss that she indulged in, because it didn't matter as much that it was Spike's crush on her that she was taking advantage of.

Because Spike's crush wasn't real.

It couldn't be. He was a demon without a soul. He couldn't _actually_ fall in love, so his interest in her was just a twisted obsession. Buffy didn't have to worry about hurting his feelings when she took advantage of his physicality because he didn't have any real feelings to hurt.

Now if only she could explain away her attraction to him so easily. Sexy dreams were one thing, but the dream she had the night before after creeping up on him sleeping in the nude was... different.

In her latest dream, she was back in the coffin, confused and weak from being brought back to life... and totally terrified to find herself buried alive. But this time, Spike was in the coffin with her. She was lying on her back with him beneath her, like a Spike shaped mattress. And instead of instantly panicking and clawing her way out of her coffin like she had in real life, dream Spike had wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her tight up against him. The feel of his incredibly hard, male body pressed so tightly up against every inch of her back had felt somehow both calming and electric.

Buffy couldn't get it out of her head. This dream bothered her more than any of the others, because it was somehow much more intimate. All the sexual interludes in the world were almost quaint when compared to a dream where Spike was with her when she was her most vulnerable. It was like her brain had invited him in to where she should be the most guarded.

But then again, that's what she had been doing all along. She had been going to see Spike and opening up to him all the while she had been shutting her friends out. She was only just now realizing that even though he was a pale imitation of a person, there was a part of her brain that actually _got_ just how intimate that was. That she had been letting Spike in, and that now with the kiss, she had taken that emotional invitation and turned it into a physical one. She had to shut it down right away. The part of her brain that kept getting tricked into thinking Spike was a person was wrong. She needed to remind herself of that. And _him_ if he tried anything.

Still, out of all her dreams, the one in the coffin remained the most vivid. Something about the fact that it didn't suddenly start turning sexual made it harder to ignore. Instead she was left with the feeling of just laying still with his arms wrapped around her like a lover, feeling his nose and lips nuzzling her neck, the hard planes of his chest pressed firmly against her back... It almost seemed more real and comforting than any of her past boyfriend relationships. She wanted to feel like that for real, calm and comforted in a lovers embrace, knowing that even when buried alive she was safe in his arms.

Just not with Spike.

Buffy stopped in her tracks when she came up to a corner group of graves. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she wasn't really paying attention to where she was going, and now she wasn't alone.

There, sitting on top of a tombstone with his back to her was the very menace that had been rampaging through her thoughts all night.

Spike.

He didn't look very menacing right now though. He just sat quietly with a stake in his hand, staring at the freshly filled in soil, waiting for whoever was buried that day to rise up as a creature of the night. It didn't seem like he knew Buffy was there. Maybe if she turned around right now and just tried to sneak away-

"Guess since you're busy playing evade the vamp we're not talking about it," he said, not looking up from the grave he was watching over. Sneaking away, definitely not an option.

"There's nothing to talk about," Buffy replied, turning to walk away anyway. It was the opposite of safe to be having this conversation.

"Just something to run away from, then," Spike said, almost too quietly. Buffy stepped closer to hear, forgetting for the moment that she was supposed to be avoiding him.

"I don't need to run away from _you_ , Spike," she replied, crossing her arms.

"Is that right?" he asked, hopping down from off the tombstone. He strolled up to Buffy, daring her to stand her ground. "Sure seemed like you fled from our kiss like I had planted bats in your hair."

"Only because I knew you were gonna pester me about it just like you are now," Buffy countered.

"I'm not pestering," Spike replied, putting a hand up in defense with a look of feigned innocence. "Do I pester?"

"I'm feeling pretty pestered," she replied.

"Not gonna spill my guts to you or anything," Spike said quietly. He seemed to have trouble meeting her eyes. "Learned better last time, didn't I? Just..." he sighed, looking back up at her face. "Tryin' to figure out where we stand."

"You're standing over there and I'm standing over here," Buffy said, determined to remove any doubt that the kiss did _not_ complicate things. "Simple."

"An epic smooch like that is anything but simple," Spike countered, his voice gaining a sensual rumble.

"It was _not_ epic," Buffy argued. "It was the opposite of epic. It was... trivial."

"Oh come _on_ , Slayer," he groaned, gripping her by her arms. "We had a seventy piece orchestra and full chorus backing to sweep us up in the moment. That's an epic beginning if I ever heard one. Bet if we got you on your back I could get you singing even without the help of a spell."

Buffy pulled herself out of his grasp. "You're such a pig, Spike."

"Oh that old standby," he replied, tilting his head. "Why are you so keen on denying what's happening between us, love?"

"There is no 'us' when only one person is a... person and the other is a _thing_ ," she replied in disgust. Spike's jaw clenched as his face darkened. Buffy might have touched a nerve with that one.

"Ya know what I think?" he asked, taking a step closer and invading her space.

"Is there any response to that question that doesn't end up with you telling me anyway?" Buffy asked, refusing to let him intimidate her.

"I think that kiss was just your way of dropping the miss prim and proper act for a bit, and finally letting your dark side come out to play," he said.

Buffy stared coldly at him. "You think that just because we've been hanging out lately that you've seen my dark side?"

"I see it all the time," he said. "Every time you make some quip 'bout the unlife you've just ended, you're trying to tamp it down, trying to keep that black river runnin' just beneath the surface from overflowing. But now you're findin' you can't hold it back anymore, so the dam breaks and you get swept up in the current, washing you into my arms. You kissed me like I was the air you breath because you're tryin' to keep your head above water."

Buffy wasn't even sure she wanted to follow all that. "Sunnydale is surrounded by desert, so I'm not sure where you're getting the water metaphors from. All there is here is dust, like what you're going to be if you don't leave me alone."

"You want to brush me off? Fine. I know I've always been dirt to you anyway." Spike took a few steps back. "But when you want to revel in your dark side, take a nice long swim in those dark waters, I'm not gonna be here for you to do it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy asked. Spike shook his head, like Buffy just wasn't getting it.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be, Buffy. I'll be your lap dog. I'll be your friend. I'll be your bloody knight in tarnished armor. But I won't be your toy," he replied, backing away from her even farther. "My heart can't take it."

Buffy couldn't help rolling her eyes at such a cheesy proclamation. "Your heart doesn't beat, Spike," she told him dismissively.

'Maybe not," he replied, coming to a stop back at the tombstone. "But it can still break." He spun around and threw the stake at the fresh grave, pinning the vampire that had just started to dig its way out right in the heart. He walked off without another word, leaving Buffy alone with the settling dust on the grave.

Buffy kicked the ground and tried not to let his words sink in too deep. For a monster, Spike did a really convincing impression of a man.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! This story will follow parts of season six, one chapter per episode, if the themes of every episode were centered around Spuffy. Hope you like!**


	2. Tabula Confracta

The whole gang had gathered at the magic box, waiting for the customers to leave and for Giles to close the store for the day. Giles stood by the bookshelves thumbing the tomes as if that would let him commit them to memory. Xander, Willow, and Anya huddled around the cash register talking about wedding plans, while Spike, Tara, and Dawn sat at the round table. All they were waiting on was Buffy.

"Here, take a look," Spike said, fishing a set of spiked knuckles out of his duster pocket and tossing them onto the table.

"Very, uh, spiky" Tara said, picking them up for inspection. "Seems appropriate."

"Look at the spikes," Spike said. "They've got wood casings." Tara tapped a spike with her pointer finger, holding it up for Dawn to see.

"Like a bunch of tiny stakes," Dawn replied.

"Figured it might come in handy when going on patrol," Spike said, shrugging and leaning back in his seat. "Would lend a satisfying poof of dust to any punch I throw."

Tara turned the weapon over in her hand, reading the engraved name on the inside of the hand grip. "Who's Randy?" She asked.

"Beat's me," Spike answered. "Probably the name of the berk who was using them before I turned him to dust. What's the point of a vampire using spiked knuckles anyway when he's got _fangs_? They were bloody useless before I added the little modification." He lowered his voice at the end, glancing at the fellow browsing the books by the front of the store.

"Spike..." Dawn said, eying the weapon in Tara's hands. "This almost seems like it would be the perfect gift for a Slayer." Spike lifted his chin, then went still.

"S'that what you think?" he asked.

"And that it's meant to remind her of you every time she uses it," Dawn continued.

"Don't think so, Nibblet," Spike said, dipping his head. "A bloke can't give a gift he knows will be rejected."

"I thought you and Buffy were spending a lot of time together. You seem to be the only person she actually wants to be around lately," Dawn said, folding her arms.

"Dawn," Tara cut in, putting the spiked knuckles down on the table. "We all just found out we're the reason she got ripped out of heaven. It must be hard for her to deal with us right now."

"Well, _I_ didn't do any of the ripping!" Dawn cut. "Why should she shut me out too?"

"Not sure she wants to be around anyone at all anymore," Spike muttered, not looking up from the table.

"Well, that's just stupid!" Dawn cried. "If she's shutting even you out then what chance do I have? I just want my sister back."

"It's complicated, Dawnie," Tara said.

"Ugh, that's just the word adults use when they don't want to make the effort," Dawn argued, rolling her eyes. "Spike, listen. I keep trying to break through to Buffy and she's not budging, but I'm not gonna stop _trying_. You can't either."

"S'different for you, Bit," Spike said, shaking his head. "You're family."

"So are you, Spike," Dawn said quietly. "You are to me."

Spike finally raised his face then, a soft look in his eyes. His mouth just started to curve upward in to a smile when the front door chimed, and Buffy walked in. Spike watched as she moved further into the store to the front counter, refusing to make eye contact with him, and his smile faded. He grabbed the spiked knuckles off the table and shoved them in his duster pocket.

"Yes, well. Now that everyone's here..." Giles said, checking his watch. Buffy glared daggers in his direction, but he turned away and approached the customer at the front of the store instead of addressing her.

"Excuse me, sir, but the store officially closed five minutes ago," Giles told the customer. "If you would like to purchase something we can accommodate you at the register, but if you wish to continue browsing I must ask you to come back tomorrow."

"Is this the best info you got on the human soul?" the customer asked.

"Erm, yes," Giles replied, glancing hastily at the book in his hands. "That's generally the accepted expostulation. Would you like to purchase it?"

"This is a damn kooky joke!" he exclaimed, turning a page in the book. "It says that the soul is the be-all-end-all of human nature. It doesn't mention anything about how it only makes up a third of the human spirit. How can you sell this mushburger?"

Giles regarded the customer curiously. With his swim top, trunks, bandana, and flip flops, he seemed like he'd be more at home out surfing the California beaches, not debating the composition of the human spirit in a small town magic shop. "I'm sorry," Giles interjected. "But we-"

"Like if I was gonna take your soul, for example," the surfer said, finally looking up from the book. Giles took a step back at the sight of his crimson eyes. "You'd probably think I would just take the soul part and bam, total wipe out. Suddenly you're a monster. But you'd still have most of your human spirit on deck. Your heart is still there, driving your emotions. And then you have your memories, steering your decisions."

"What do you mean, take his soul?" Buffy stepped forward, stake in hand. Everyone in the shop had come to a stand still once Giles had stepped back from the surfer, listening carefully to what would happen next.

"It's like you don't get the difference between vampires and zombies," the surfer said, ignoring Buffy and continuing on his rant. "They're both dead dudes walking, but a zombie has nothing left of a human spirit, and is basically just a hunger drive on legs. A vampire has no soul, but keeps their memories, and sometimes even their heart." Spike slowly stood up, and edged closer to Giles. "But look at what a difference those memories make! A vampire is one crafty, conniving bro, while a zombie's got nothing else on its mind than grub. And you dudes don't even notice this basic difference?"

"Who are you?" Giles asked carefully, taking another slow step backward.

The surfer snapped the book shut in his hand, and grinned at him. "I'm the Seeker, brah."

"Green hair, red eyes, pretentious name," Anya said. "He's a vodnik."

"Good? Evil?" Buffy asked.

"Soul collectors, could go either way," Anya replied.

"Dangerous?"

"Very. Be careful, Buffy."

"And memory is such a big part of who you are. Maybe even _more_ important than the soul," the Seeker continued. "If you have nothing but bad memories that can kill you, eating away at the rest of your spirit. But even one good memory, one bright sparkle of sunshine on the surface of the water, can save you from drowning. Memory makes you. Your damage, your joy. Memory is what steers how you make your decisions." He looked directly at Giles. "Can you still care about someone if you don't remember who they are?" The Seeker turned his attention to Spike. "Would you try to be a villain or a hero, when you have a clean slate of calm water?" He finally settled his red gaze on Buffy. "Would a vampire and a Slayer fight to the death if they don't realize they're supposed to be enemies?"

Buffy stilled, before quickly shaking her head. "You need to tell us what you want from us," she said.

"Well I was _supposed_ to just track you down, Slayer, so I can take your soul," he said, reaching into the pocket of his swim trunks and pulling out a small porcelain cup. "But I'm just so cheesed with you dudes lack of understanding on how your own souls work, I feel like I need to give you all some lessons."

Buffy and Spike started to advance on him, while he lowered a pair of aviator sunglasses over his face.

"So I think I'll just be taking your memories then," the Seeker concluded, flinging a shimmery liquid out of the cup and up into the air, where it spread out into a fine mist.

The mist settled down quickly in the store, making everyone immediately fall to the ground, unconscious. Except for the vodnik.

* * *

Buffy rolled her head to the side, before lifting it off what she had been using as a pillow. Beneath her lay a man with bleached blonde hair, dark eyelashes and killer cheekbones. He was passed out, and Buffy looked down to see that she was draped across him. She had woken up on a stranger. Did she just have a drunken one night stand?

She looked around at her surroundings. She seemed to be in some kind of curio shop and bookstore. There were a few other people passed out in various positions around her. Buffy had no idea where she was. Come to think of it, she had no idea _who_ she was either. This was definitely not a drunken one night stand.

She shifted her arm to see if she could get up without waking the man beneath her, but froze as he started to stir. He squeezed his eyelids together tightly before blinking them several times and looking at her in confusion. He didn't seem to know who she was either.

"Hello, gorgeous," he said, apparently not minding waking up to find a stranger on top of him.

"Um, hi," Buffy replied, sitting up on her haunches. "You, uh, come her often?" she asked, cringing after the fact. The man sat up on his elbows and looked around.

"Don't think I've ever seen this place before in my life. Haven't got a clue who you are either," he said, before a suggestive smirk spread across his face as he looked her up and down. "Though I'm definitely keen to find out."

Buffy felt a blush creep up her cheeks at his boldness. "What's your name?" she asked.

"I'm, uh," he trailed off, scratching his head. "Couldn't tell you. My memory seems to have gone with the wind. I'm doing pretty badly at this pop quiz of yours. You're not a teacher are you?"

"I don't know who I am either," Buffy replied, standing up. "How much you wanna bet these people are in the same boat?" she asked. The man stood up with her and looked at the other sleeping people.

"Well this is a rare sight," he muttered. "Looks like the world's most boring bacchanalia and we all happened to use the wrong substance."

"A bakka-what-now?" Buffy asked. She was pretty sure he wasn't talking about the board game with dice.

"It's a drunken orgy the ancient Greeks would throw to celebrate the god of wine," he clarified. "And why I can answer that but not my own name makes no sense to me either."

"This definitely doesn't look like that kind of party. More like a study group or something," she mused, before looking back at the bleached blonde. "Hey, I woke up on top of you, do you think we came here together?" He looked back at her, running his gaze down the set of bare legs her short shorts were showing off. Buffy tried not to squirm under his roaming eyes.

"God I hope so," he replied. "I'd be one hell of a lucky bloke if that's the case."

"I don't mean _together_ together," she backtracked, with a nervous laugh. This guy was really laying on the charm. "You don't really look like boyfriend material."

"What? Why not?" he looked down and scanned his clothes. The long black leather duster, black t-shirt, and black jeans screamed trouble. "Don't all nice girls have a taste for bad boys?" he asked, putting his hands in his duster pockets.

"I don't know what my tastes were, or if I'm even a nice girl," Buffy answered, trying to play it cool. There was a definite temptation to flirt with the handsome stranger, but without her memories it was probably not the best idea at the moment. Luckily, he seemed to be distracted by what he had discovered in his coat pockets, holding them out for her to see.

"A pack of cigarettes and a set of spiked knuckles," she said. "Oh yeah, I'd totally be bringing you home to introduce you to my dad."

"Or you'd be sneaking me in through your bedroom window," he suggested with a salacious grin. "But look, I've at least got my name now. Randy." Buffy looked at the name engraved on the set of spiked knuckles, then back at Randy.

"You don't look like a Randy," she said.

"It's better than the heap of nothing I was able to come up with, so I'll take it," he replied. "You got anything in your pockets with your name on it?"

Buffy dug through the pockets of her shorts, but came up empty. "Nothing," she sighed.

"Want me to name you?" Randy asked. "Everything about you looks delicious, so the name Candy springs to mind. We could be Randy and Candy."

"Ugh, that sounds like a porn star name," she replied, wrinkling her nose. "No, I want a serious, mature name. I feel like a Joan."

"Joan can be a porn star name," Randy countered with a smirk, stepping closer to Joan.

"It can _not_ ," she argued.

"There once was a girl named Joan," Randy sing-songed. "Her bloke loved making her moan. After he had gone south, he wiped off his mouth, then it was his turn to get-" Joan clapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish.

"A bad boy _and_ a poet," Joan said, rolling her eyes. "You're like the hero from a trashy romance novel."

The look in his eye was completely naughty, but just as he pulled her hand from his mouth to speak he was cut off.

"Who are you people?" the teenager at the table cried out. Everyone else in the store began to wake up at the sound of her outburst. From there it was a lot of clashing personalities, confusion, and guesswork to sort things out, but they had a handful of ID's and other clues to give them some details.

Randy and Rupert Giles were the only two Englishmen there, so they must have been father and son. Rupert seemed to own the magic shop they had all woken up in, so they reasoned that Randy had brought Joan to introduce her to his father. Tara and Dawn were sitting at the table together, and they figured that they were sisters. Because Anya and Willow had woken up on top of each other, Alex had guessed that they were a couple, and could not stop staring at them and giggling. Wendell had worn a bunch of swimming clothes into a magic store, so he was probably looking to buy some herbs for his next beach party, and Rupert was just helping out the customer.

'Look, we need to figure out what's going on here," Joan said. "We need to get help. We have a kid here-"

"A teenager," Dawn corrected.

"A teenager," Joan amended. "And we have no idea what's wrong with us. I think a hospital's our best bet."

"Right, um, I suppose that's a good a place to start as any," Rupert said, moving towards the door. When he tried to open it, it wouldn't budge.

"Do we need to find the key?" Anya asked.

"No, ah, it would seem it's more than simply locked," Rupert replied, adjusting his glasses. "The handle doesn't respond to any sort of pressure. It's as if it's merely a sculpture of a handle."

"Let me try, Pops," Randy said, moving up behind him. "Know your old bones aren't what they used to be." Rupert rolled his eyes as Randy tried to open the door himself, with the same lack of result. "Yeah, that's magically sealed or somethin'," Randy said, turning away from the door.

"We can't allow magic as an acceptable answer simply because we woke up in a magic shop," Giles countered.

"No?" Randy asked. "How 'bout this, then?" He picked up a heavy bronze paperweight from one of the store shelves and hurled it at the large glass window. The glass didn't even vibrate from the impact, the paperweight bouncing harmlessly to the floor. Randy raised a scarred eyebrow at Rupert.

"Yes, well..." Rupert said, taking off his glasses and polishing them. "Perhaps we should look through the books here for some sort of explanation."

"There are other doors we can check out too," Joan suggested, moving towards the back room. "Wendell, you check that door in the corner. Alex, go with him. We don't know if this isn't some freaky Hotel California type deal. Rupert and I have this one. Randy, you and the girls should start looking through the shop for clues."

"Geez, she's bossy," Dawn muttered as Joan went through the back door.

"Yeah," Randy smiled, having to stop himself from following after her. "I love a take-charge kind of girl."

Joan and Rupert stopped short when they found the back room had been fitted as some sort of training room. Joan slowly walked into the middle of the wrestling mat in the center of the room.

"Why would a magic shop have a weird martial arts dojo in the back room?" she asked, turning in place to fully take in the space.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Rupert replied, skirting the room to examine the weapons on display on the walls. "Perhaps it's all, um, some sort of... mystical arts of the orient package."

"The mystical arts of battle axes," Joan said, zeroing in on one of the largest weapons in the rack. She picked up the weapon with ease, and jiggled it in her hand a bit. "Huh, it's lighter than it looks. Must be some sort of prop weapon. Hey, you think we somehow got trapped on a movie set? Maybe this is one of those candid camera prank type shows."

Rupert lifted up a crossbow from where it rested in its stand. "This weapon appears to be very much authentic," he said, checking out the various parts. "But I'd certainly be more willing to believe that this whole situation is just part of some elaborate hoax than magic."

Joan moved to a door in back that was a good bet to lead outside. Finding it just as sealed as the front door, she held up the battle ax and swung it at the door handle, to no effect. "The handle's not even scratched. If it isn't magic, it's the best craftsmanship I've ever seen... probably. Come on, let's regroup with the others and see if they had any luck," she said, hefting the ax onto her shoulder and making her way across the training room.

"Joan, um, a moment, if you please," Rupert said. Joan turned back to him and raised a questioning brow. "You seem to be a resourceful girl, and you clearly have a good head on your shoulders."

"Thanks," Joan said, with a warm smile. She wasn't sure why, but Rupert's confidence in her felt strangely validating.

"My son, Randy, well... He has a bit of a delinquent vibe about him, I suppose..." he continued. "But I assume, well, I _hope_ really, that I raised him right. I have faith that you'll keep him on the straight and narrow, should he need the guidance. It's clear to anyone with eyes that he cares a great deal for you."

"Right now he doesn't even know me," Joan shrugged.

"No, but sometimes, well, it seems these connections go beyond even our capacity to remember, as if they are etched into our very soul," he replied. "When I look at you, I feel a sense of great pride. I feel nearly certain that, that I know you. I don't believe this is the first time Randy has brought you to meet me. You almost seem to me like... like the daughter I never had," he finished with a faint smile.

"That you know of," Joan replied with a smile of her own.

"That may be true, yes," Rupert conceded. "Still, I do wonder if these feelings of familiarity have any sort of merit, or um, if I'm simply reading too much into it." He gestured toward the door leading back to the shop and followed Joan through the door.

When they were back in the shop proper, Joan scanned the area for each person. Wendell and Alex weren't back from investigating the other section of the shop. Tara, Dawn, Willow, and Anya were flipping through books, and Randy was on the upper level rummaging through the bookshelves up there.

Joan let her gaze linger on Randy for a while longer before she set the battle ax down by the door. If Rupert felt pride seeing her be herself, and disappointment studying his son, what did she feel around Randy? She was too wigged out by the memory loss to really focus on it before. Joan quickly crossed the magic shop and bounded up the ladder.

"Hey," Joan said to Randy's back. "Find anything?" He turned to face her with a sober look.

"Some heady stuff in these books," he replied. "Demon summoning, ritual sacrifice, apocalypses... Someone could cause a lot of mayhem with the spells in these books, if they were real."

"Mayhem might be the understatement of the century when talking about an apocalypse," Joan replied, crossing her arms.

"Dunno," Randy said. "A person would have to be pretty devoted to chaos to want to bring about the end of the world," putting the book back. "Or just really sick of the place."

"You seem a little bit like an agent of chaos yourself," she observed.

"Could be," he replied. "All I want to do right now is find whoever took our memories and throw down," he said as he scanned the bookshelf. "But that could be my undying sense of righteous justice talking," he added with a smirk.

Joan looked up at the spines of the books lining the shelves above Randy's head. For some reason, the one reading _Summoning and Resurrection_ on the spine caught her eye. She edged closer to him and stood on her toes to reach up for it, but she was just short enough to make getting a grip on the book difficult.

"Here, let me," Randy offered. He stood behind her and reached an arm up for the book, caging her body with his for a brief moment, before bringing the book back down to offer to her. Joan turned around, pressing her back to the bookshelf and studied Randy as she took the book from him.

She tried to call up any sort of recognizable feeling when she looked at him, but she couldn't. It was like she was an empty shell. If she was supposed to be his girlfriend or lover or fiance or something, shouldn't some sort of feeling surface at the sight of him? Maybe the memory loss just hit her extra hard, because she was still a total blank slate when looking at anyone here. At the very least, as she let her eyes roam over the planes of his face and tried not to let them dip down further to his body, she could feel an attraction. Strong attraction. Maybe that was something she could latch on to.

"Do you think we've kissed before?" she asked him, her voice barely above a whisper. It was hard not to stare at his mouth and wonder what it would be like to nibble on that juicy lower lip.

"It's a safe bet," he replied, his voice a low rumble that made Joan lock her knees together to keep them from trembling. "The state we woke up in, bringing you here to my dad's shop. Plus I've wanted to kiss you ever since I woke up," he added, his lips pursing as a smirk crept across his face.

"Maybe if we kiss now we'll be able to remember something," she said, fighting hard to keep her voice casual.

"Maybe..." Randy echoed, stepping in closer and dipping his head. "Or maybe it'd just be a nice distraction from this bloody freak show."

It didn't really matter to Joan what excuse she used to kiss him, only that she did. She didn't hesitate, and gave into the urge by tilting her head up and bringing her mouth gently to his. Randy smiled and let her explore his mouth, bringing a hand to her shoulder. His lips were nice and soft, but also strangely cool to the touch. Somehow, this didn't seem unexpected to Joan.

 _This_ was the feeling. This was the only thing she got any familiarity from in this whole weird nightmare, this physical connection to Randy. There was this sensation that he had something that she needed, and she had to take it from him intimately. Joan pulled back, looking at Randy with wonder.

"We've definitely done this before," she said, her lips already tingling from the sensation.

"Wonder what else we've done," Randy said, grinning and moving back in for another kiss, causing Joan to drop the book to the floor.

He wasn't quite so gentle this time, turning up the heat and sneaking his tongue into Joan's mouth. She responded eagerly to his enthusiasm, battling his tongue with her own. She felt a little bit naughty when he pressed his body flush up against her, pinning her to the bookshelf. Joan didn't know this guy, not without her memories, and she had a feeling that she normally wasn't a fast lane ho-bag. But there was a thrill to be making out with a handsome stranger, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she could find the answers in his kiss.

"Hey! Blonde and Blonder, tonsil hockey's over! Let's figure out what we're gonna do."

Joan broke the kiss and peered down to the first floor to see Alex waiting for them expectantly. She looked back up at Randy, the open hunger so easily readable on his face that she had no doubt he would have gone much farther than just kissing, stranger or not.

"Let's go see if they found anything," Joan said, maneuvering her way out from under Randy and hopping down the ladder lickety split. Whatever that means.

"So, what's behind door number three?" she asked Alex once she reached the bottom. She could feel Randy landing behind her. Something about his presence made the hair on her neck stand on end, in a not unpleasant way.

"A basement with a lot more magically stuff," he replied, glancing over to the others before lowering his voice. "But, uh, while I was down there, Wendell and I were digging through some of the boxes. And for just a second, the angle was just right that I caught a glimpse of his eyes behind his sunglasses. Totally red. And not albino red or wacky weed red. Blood red. Something tells me this guy is part of the problem."

Joan looked over to where Wendell was toying with some curios on a shelf. "I'll go talk to him," she said.

"I'll back you up," Randy chimed in.

"Me too," Alex added.

"No, if we all approach him together we'll tip him off," Joan argued. "Let me just see what his deal is first." She walked off in Wendell's direction before they could protest.

"Hey, whatcha looking at?" she asked as she approached.

"Just checking out the curios," he replied, turning away from the shelf. "I don't there's any real value to any of this junk. It looks like a bunch of knockoffs to me."

"What's that one?" Joan asked, nodding to the porcelain cup he held discreetly in his hand.

"Oh this?" he asked, holding it up for a brief moment before bringing it back down. "Just a neat little cup. I figured it might be nice to make tea in or something."

"But you're gonna pay for it right?" Joan added with a grin. "Rupert does own this shop after all."

"Oh sure, I figure once we get all this sorted I can just- Hey!" Without him noticing, Randy had snuck up behind him and grabbed the porcelain cup out of Wendell's hand.

"This is just a piece of rubbish China," Randy said, turning it over in his hand. "Look's like it belongs on grandmum's mantle instead of a magic shop."

"Like I was telling Buffy, it's just a pretty cup," he said, reaching out for it. Randy moved it out of his reach with ease.

"Who's Buffy?" Joan asked.

"I meant Joan," Wendell corrected. "Come on, give it back." Both Randy and Joan stared hard at him. Buffy was not a name you could confuse for Joan.

"All right mate, time to start singing," Randy said, tossing the cup over his shoulder.

"NO!" Wendell shouted, scrambling for the cup. It hit the hard wood floor and shattered into a dozen pieces before he could catch it. "You stupid, ridiculous vampire! You should have been eating the Slayer, not of kissing-" his voice gave out in a croak, before his hair turned white and he faded away on a gust of wind.

"Spike," Buffy said, picking up the broken pieces of the cup off the floor. "That was very, very lucky." She looked back up at him from her position down on the floor, but he had already walked away, headed for the front door. It opened easily.

"Looks like breaking the cup undid the whole thing," Spike said. "Gonna head back to my crypt, make sure my gravestones are all still in order," he added, slipping out the door without so much as a goodbye. Buffy watched him go, left to puzzle out what any of this meant without him.

"Well that was, um..." Giles began.

"Just another day in the life of the Slayer?" Willow supplied.

"I was going to say bizarre, but er, I think your assertion is the correct one," he said.

"Giles," Buffy said. "What did he mean when he was talking about the human spirit? It sounded like he thought a heart and a memory were as important as a soul."

"Yes, well, he _is_ a demon after all," Giles said. "His priorities aren't exactly in line with humanity's."

"I don't know about that," Anya cut in. "Vodnik's collect souls because they can _see_ them differently than the rest of us. If one starts showing interest in our memories then I'd definitely believe that there's something to it"

"Regardless," Giles said. "Taking a vampire's memories does not absolve one of their demon."

"Spike didn't go on a killing spree when his memories were taken," Buffy observed. "If anything it was like he didn't even know the demon was there."

" _Spike_ is most certainly not a good measure for your average vampire," he countered. "He's always been a bit of an odd duck."

 _Almost like there's something else in there muddying up the line between man and monster_ , Buffy thought to herself. She wasn't about to suggest to Giles that Spike had a heart and that made him somehow redeemable. She didn't even believe it herself.

"Um, well, now that our misadventure seems to have come to an end," Giles said, "I did have an announcement to make."

* * *

 **The name Wendell means "wanderer". Kind of like a Seeker...**


	3. Smashing

Buffy sighed into the early afternoon sun as she shoved open the front door with her shoulder, a couple dozen grocery bags in her hands. She hated grocery shopping in the first place, but putting everything away was the worst part. She stopped short when she stepped into the kitchen, finding Dawn using a hair dryer on Spike's nails as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be giving a manicure to a vampire on the kitchen island.

"Spike," Buffy said. She walked around them and put the grocery bags on the counter, before starting to put the groceries away. "Don't you usually do your own nails?" Dawn turned the hair dryer off.

"Yeah, well," Spike said, looking sheepish. "'Lil sis does a real good job of getting a nice even coat." He moved over to the grocery bags and began putting stuff away as well, careful of the fresh paint.

"I always did his nails back when you were..." Dawn began, unable to say it.

"Dead?" Buffy supplied, turning to face her.

"I don't see why I should stop just because you're back," Dawn said, crossing her arms. "You weren't home anyway, so what difference does it make to you when my friends are over?"

Buffy stopped, and looked from Dawn to Spike, his back turned to her as he put the groceries away. Dangerous as he was, she had trusted him with her sister's safety long before she died. It was the fact that she couldn't seem to stop kissing him that complicated the issue.

"So you're buddies now?" Buffy asked.

"Oh my god, why is this even a thing?" Dawn asked, throwing her hands up. "Spike was here for me when nobody else was, including you."

"Easy, Bit," Spike said, abandoning the groceries and approaching Dawn. "I'm not here to drive a wedge between you two. I can just bugger off to make things nice and simple." He grabbed the black nail polish off the kitchen counter and slipped it into his duster pocket, before making his way out of the kitchen toward front door.

"What did you do to him?" Dawn accused, not bothering to keep her voice down.

"Um, hello? I just got here," Buffy said. "I didn't do anything."

"Then why does he make himself scarce whenever you're around?" she asked. "Is it because you guys made out when we all lost our memories?"

"We didn't-" Buffy began, cutting herself off at the look Dawn gave her. Xander had basically called out to everyone in the Magic Box that they had been kissing so there was no point denying it. "I just don't want to talk about it, OK?" She returned to the groceries to finish putting them away.

"It's not like pretending something didn't happen makes it true," Dawn said. "You can say it doesn't count because of the memory loss or whatever, but it still happened. I even thought Tara was my sister and we started talking about doing each others hair and stuff. We just had a good laugh about it later."

"Yeah, because that's totally the same," Buffy said, nearly slamming the cabinet door as she put the last of the cereal boxes away.

"Why isn't it the same?" Dawn asked. "It was a goofy mixup from a spell. Unless it wasn't... Are you saying that the spell just revealed hidden passions?" she guessed, her eyes wide and a big grin on her face.

"No! Dawn, you just- God!" Buffy sputtered, before marching away and into the foyer, stopping short when she found Spike still there. "Weren't you leaving?" she asked him, crossing her arms.

"I, uh, misplaced my blanket," he replied, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Buffy sighed, moving over to look behind the couch and immediately finding it. Stuff was always falling back there. "Right then," he said, taking the blanket from her before abruptly turning toward the door.

"Spike, wait," Buffy called, stopping him in his tracks. "You don't have to-" she stopped, and started again. "I'm not mad at you."

"That so?" he asked. "All the stomping around and teeth-gnashing is a great way to convey that."

"Are you afraid of me?" she asked quietly. "Afraid that if you stick around I'm gonna... use you?"

"Course not, love," he answered without hesitation. "Even if you did lock me away in your basement as your sex slave I'd still be chuffed to bits."

A mental image of Spike shirtless and chained to the wall in her basement popped up into Buffy's head without warning, with a spiked dog collar around his neck. He wore it well. Whatever that means. Buffy shook her head to clear out that little picture, before pressing on.

"Then why do you always seem to want to disappear whenever I'm around?" she asked.

"I'm," Spike began slowly. "Afraid of myself. What I'll do."

"I think I can handle you, Spike," Buffy said, putting her hand on her hip.

Spike shook his head and stepped toward her, his eyes on her lips. "I don't think you've caught on to just what you'd be unleashing," he replied, his voice low and sultry. "Know you think my love isn't real. That even my unflinching hundred-year loyalty to Drusilla was just an obsession. But no matter how you label that flame, it burns red hot."

"What difference does it make how I label it?" Buffy asked.

"Because," he said, taking another step toward her, his finger trailing down the hair framing her face. "If you give me an opening, if you stoke the flames and let me in..." He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I'll scorch you. You'd be caught in my searing inferno and I wouldn't be able to douse it. You an' me, baby? We'd be _explosive_." Buffy swallowed, suddenly feeling very parched.

"So!" he said, abruptly stepping back and returning his voice to a casual volume. "I'm keeping my distance." Buffy blinked. She had been really caught up in the moment for a second and forgot what she was supposed to be doing. She tried to put back on her snarky face to regain her composure.

"I'm pretty sure I can handle your scorching room-temperature heat," she replied.

"You sure about that, pet?" he asked, biting his lower lip. "I know I'm fairly irresistible."

"Just because I kissed you-" Buffy started.

"Twice," Spike cut in.

"Does it really count when we don't have our memories?" she asked, tilting her head at him.

"It counts _more_ ," he said, his eyes lighting up. "Means even without the history of unresolved sexual tension between us you still can't keep your mitts off me."

"You're gonna milk this for all its worth, huh," she asked dryly.

"Till there's not a drop left."

Buffy sighed and let a defeated smile wander across her face. Though she really didn't want to try to lead him on or encourage Spike in any way, his brazen flirting was familiar, even comfortable. She definitely preferred it to him tip-toeing around her like her friends, or Dawn acting like her return to life was an exercise in failing to live up to expectations. Spike didn't use the kid gloves with Buffy, and until she pushed him away after their big damn kiss, it was one of the few things keeping her sane. She really didn't want to be left with a soulless vampire as her best friend, but until Buffy could make peace with her friends ripping her out of heaven, Spike was all she had.

"Listen," she said. "I don't know about red fire or black water or whatever, and I'm not going to light your fire, and... You know, you really need to cool it with all the metaphors lately."

Spike smirked and shrugged one shoulder. "Best way to get you listenin' to something you don't want to talk about," he replied.

"However you say it," Buffy said shaking her head quickly. "My point is, I don't want you staying away because of me. I really just want things to go back to normal, and normal is you showing up at inconvenient times and causing me a headache. Just no more kissing, OK?"

"You want me to be a bother," he said nodding. "Think I can manage that." Then he stepped in with a conspiratorial smirk on his face. "Wanna get physical?"

Buffy looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights. "I just said-"

"Sparring, I mean," he added.

"Oh! But we can't spar without your chip firing," Buffy said.

"No, but I can at least take a hit better than your mates." He replied. "Figure I could hold up the mitts or dodge your punches or something. Know your whole regimen must be thrown off with your Watcher skipping across the pond."

Buffy winced at the mention of Giles, the pain of his leaving her behind still too fresh for her to really dwell on it. Training with Spike probably _would_ be a good way to keep her mind off of things. He'd be so much faster and hardier as a training partner that she actually might have to put in an effort. She could already picture fighting him, getting all hot and sweaty, breathing heavily... grappling with his iron-like hold until he pinned her to the ground...

On second thought, maybe training alone with him was a bad idea.

"Buffy? You still in there?" Spike asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," she said, checking herself. "I was just thinking that since Xander and Anya have been helping me train lately that they should be there too. I don't want to brush them off or anything, and they can keep score... or something."

"Harris hasn't been too keen on me sharing the same zip code as you lately," Spike said. "But sure, when you plan on training next?"

"I was gonna head over to the Magic Box in about an hour, when Anya closes up shop," Buffy answered.

"Right then, I'll see you there," he replied, throwing the blanket over his head as he turned and headed out the door.

Buffy sighed for the umpteenth time that day now that she was left alone in the foyer. It was probably a really stupid call to let Spike back into her life, and she was tempting fate to keep spending time with him after they had kissed. Twice.

She turned to walk back toward the kitchen. Hanging around Spike made her feel somewhat normal again, so maybe if she had him around when she was with her friends too, she could carry over some of that normalcy to her relationships with her friends. It was worth a shot.

Buffy nearly collided with Dawn as she rounded the corner, finding her standing there with a smug grin on her face.

"You guys should totally just hook up already," Dawn said.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you that eavesdropping is rude?" Buffy asked.

"I gotta say, as far as brothers-in-law go, I could do a lot worse than Spike," Dawn continued.

"And I'm leaving now," Buffy said, escaping out the back door.

"Can I be your maid of honor?" Dawn called after her.

* * *

"Your punches are shattering the bones in my hands slightly less today," Xander said, taking the blows from Buffy's punches in boxing mitts. "Are you holding out on me?"

"Spike said he was gonna train with me later, so yeah," Buffy said between hits.

"Huh, I thought I remembered this little detail about a chip," he replied sarcastically. "Something about him fighting you being really painful for him?"

"Probably no more painful than it is for you to practice with me," she said.

"Good point. Maybe you should take a break, save the good hits for him," he said.

"I always have a good hit saved up for Spike," Buffy quipped.

"Man, I don't know how you can stand to be around that guy knowing he shoved his tongue down your throat," Xander said, shaking his head.

Buffy winced. She had been trying not to repeat that little make out session on loop in her head, and really didn't need Xander bringing it up. "It doesn't count when you don't have any memories," Buffy argued. "It's like a bad one-night stand, I'm pretending it didn't happen."

"The spell wearing off didn't erase what we all did without our memories though," he replied. "And I doubt a soulless demon openly obsessed with you is just gonna forget it. I'm worried, Buff."

"I can handle Spike," she replied reflexively.

"I know you can. But the dude's persistent, and..." Xander trailed off, unable to finish his thought.

"And what?" Buffy asked, punching the mitts a little harder now. "You think he's gonna wear me down and I'll just start making out with him again?"

"I don't _know_ what could happen," Xander said. "I never would've predicted the Buffy-bot but that sure was a Stepford wife nightmare that I could do without repeating."

"Spike's still the best backup I have, and we never found out what the deal was with that vodka demon," she said.

"I think it was a vodnik," he corrected.

"Whatever," Buffy sighed, stopping her barrage of attacks and standing up straight. "The point is, I'll deal with Spike if I have to, OK?"

"Yeah, I know you will, Xander said, following her with his eyes as she walked over to the table and grabbed her water bottle. "It's just... I worry, you know?"

That's just what Buffy was tired of. All her friends ever had for her anymore was worry. She was sick of carrying that around on her shoulders. Her eyes roamed to the back door as she chugged her water. The thought of just ditching this whole routine and wandering around the back alley suddenly seemed very appealing. Just as she put her water bottle back down, the door opened, and Spike walked in, a mostly smoked cigarette dangling from his lips. God, his lips looked sexy when he pursed them like that.

Wait, no. Smoking was gross and 'sexy' was not an adjective she should be thinking about Spike. Buffy found it a lot harder to convince herself of that second point than the first.

"Hey Mr. Flammable, you can't smoke in here," Xander called.

"Yeah, yeah. Was just putting it out," Spike said, tossing the cigarette out the door before closing it behind him. He nodded to the boxing mitts Xander was taking off his hands. "You finish with the mitts already?"

"Just now, yeah," he nodded.

"Guess I get to be a moving target then," Spike said, taking off his coat and tossing it over onto the pommel horse.

"You sure you can dodge my hits?" Buffy asked, her hand on her hip.

"Know I can. Just don't always want to, babe," he replied with a wink, moving to the center of the training mat.

Buffy didn't fail to notice the obvious glare Xander shot her after snapping his head in her direction. She rolled her eyes, both at Spike's lame flirting and at Xander's overreaction to it.

"All right then, you asked for it," she said, moving closer towards Spike and then lunging at the last second. He sidestepped her easily.

Buffy smirked. It had been a long time since she actually had to fight an experienced vampire like Spike. This might actually be fun.

They moved in a flurry of motion, Buffy throwing punch after punch at Spike with him dodging or blocking her every step of the way. "You're telegraphing your hits, pet," Spike goaded. "Easy to see the pitch when the wind up is so clear."

"That's just so it'll hurt more when I hit you," she countered. Buffy used a high cheerleader kick that revealed a bit of thigh in her exercise shorts, and she caught Spike leering. He was almost distracted enough to get hit by the next punch she threw.

Anya came into the training room, having finished up calculating the shop's finances for the day. She gave Xander a peck on the cheek and sat beside him on the pile of stacked mats by the wall, turning her attention to the lightning fast game of punch tag Xander seemed to be engrossed in.

"Wow, I don't think you can help Buffy train like _that_ ," she said.

"Yeah..." Xander said, concern evident on his face. Anya looked from Xander back to Spike and Buffy. Buffy was a hurricane of kicks and punches, elegantly flowing from one move to the next. But Spike was faster still, weaving and dodging, spinning and blocking, so that not a single hit could get through.

"I forgot how fast he was," Anya said quietly, awed by the display before her. Xander slowly nodded once.

"It's easy to forget why a sweet and friendly muzzled dog was put in the muzzle in the first place... He's dangerous," he said, unfortunately forgetting the benefit of vampiric hearing.

"A muzzled dog can still piss on your carpet, Harris, so watch your bloody tongue," Spike called out, just before Buffy managed to punch him square in the jaw. "Oof! You got me," he said backing off.

"Took me a while though," Buffy said. "You aren't this evasive around anything else we've had to fight."

"Don't much care for evasion," he replied, rubbing his jaw. "Prefer a good scrap. 'Sides, I know all your moves like the Slayer alphabet. Ready to dodge me now?"

"You'll get a good zap if you hit me," Buffy warned.

"Then you'll just have to be extra dodgy then, won't you?" he said, immediately throwing a punch at her head so that she had to jump back.

They began again with their evasive duel, this time with Buffy on the defensive. She knew a lot of Spike's moves as well from the many times they had fought side-by-side, but she definitely hadn't been watching him as closely as he had her.

"You're pulling your punches," she told him, jumping over the sweep of his leg.

"Don't want the chip to burn me too badly when I hit you," he replied.

"You have to be able to hit me first," she countered with a grin.

While Buffy was much stronger, she was at a disadvantage in terms of speed. It took Spike much less time to land a blow in the small of Buffy's back, sending her stumbling.

"Gah!" she cried out, catching herself before she hit the floor.

"Better watch your back, Slayer," Spike taunted. "As much as I love the view, I can't keep my eyes on it all the time."

"Oh, you are so dead," Buffy replied, turning around to face him. "Deader. More dead. Dus-"

"Hey, wait a minute," Anya interrupted. "Your chip didn't fire."

"What?" Buffy and Spike asked in unison.

"You hit Buffy and you aren't in pain!" Anya explained.

"What the-" Spike muttered, putting his hand to his forehead. "I-"

"His chip's busted! The dog's unmuzzled!" Xander shouted, jumping down from the stack of mats and snatching up a stake from the weapon rack. "Back away from Buffy now!" he ordered, pointing the stake at Spike.

"Now just hold the sodding phone," Spike said, defensively bringing his hands up.

"Maybe the chip just wasn't paying attention or something because you were exercising," Anya suggested.

"That's not how that works," Xander insisted.

"Just... hit me again," Buffy said, addressing Spike.

Spike looked at Buffy like she was crazy. "That's just gonna hurt both of us if demon girl is right," he said.

"We gotta test this," Buffy argued. "Just sock me in the shoulder or something."

Spike shook his head in exasperation, before hitting her hard on the shoulder. The chip again refused to go off and Spike remained unharmed.

"Nothing," Buffy muttered, looking at him in confusion.

"We gotta take him out," Xander said, edging closer to Spike.

"Now, hold on," Buffy said, putting her hand up.

"He's just an evil vampire again!" Xander cried, gesturing toward Spike with the stake. "That chip was the only thing keeping him on our side in the first place! If we don't take him out the rest of Sunnydale is in danger."

"You're overreacting, Xander," Buffy said.

"You really think the chip is forcing me to join forces with you lot?" Spike sneered at Xander. "That the chip is what had me watching after the Bit when you all were performing your dark rituals, or that it's what's bringing me here, to spar with Buffy?"

Xander hesitated for just a moment as he considered his question. "I'm not willing to take the risk," he said, shortly before lunging for Spike. Spike ducked and kicked Xander across the room, sending him flying back onto the pile of mats he had been sitting on earlier. Both Xander and Spike cried out in pain from the maneuver, Xander clutching his midsection where he was kicked and Spike clutching his skull.

"Ow! Bloody hell!" Spike shouted.

"Wait, the chip fired again," Anya pointed out, helping Xander to sit up.

"He could be faking," Xander said, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh, sod off, Harris. I would have just faked it in the first place," Spike argued.

Buffy looked from Xander to Spike, trying to figure out what just happened "Spike, hit Anya," she commanded.

"She's just a human now, love," Spike said as he stood back up.

"A baby hit," Buffy suggested. "Not enough to really hurt."

Spike sighed and walked over to the couple, with Xander tensing up as he neared. "For science and all that," Spike said, backhanding Anya across the shoulder.

"Ouch!" Anya yelped, rubbing her shoulder as Spike instinctively brought his hand up to his head in pain once more.

"Now, hit me again," Buffy ordered.

"My gray matter's gonna get scrambled if we keep this up this much longer," Spike said walking back over to Buffy.

"Last one, I promise," she said.

Spike shot out a palm and smacked her square on the forehead, sending her stumbling back a little bit. They all stood and stared at him to see if he would cry out in pain again.

Nothing.

"The chip works," Buffy said quietly. "It's just not working on me."

"Maybe there's something wrong with Buffy!" Anya suggested with her usual enthusiasm.

"Hey now-" Xander started.

"No, she's right," Buffy stopped him. "It's the only explanation."

"It's probably just a problem with the chip pet," Spike said, stepping closer to her.

"Yeah, don't put the bleached menace's defect on you," Xander said.

"I died, Xander," Buffy said. "What's more likely? That Spike's chip is suddenly not working for one person or that I came back wrong?" Everyone went still for a moment at her words, before Xander piped up again.

"We should run more tests," he said. "Willow and Tara could do a spell and try to figure some stuff out."

"Yeah... Let's- let's do that," Buffy murmured. "I'm gonna go home. Please don't follow me," she added, gathering up her things into her duffel bag before stepping out the door. The three of them stood stock still for a second before Spike burst into motion and snatched up his duster.

"She said not to follow her, Spike," Xander told him.

"I'm bad at following orders," he replied, throwing his coat on.

"Nuh-uh," Xander said, jumping down off the stack of mats and walking up to him. "If the chip doesn't work on Buffy I'm not letting you be alone with her."

"Oh, please," Spike scoffed. "Do you honestly believe I'd hurt her? After you saw the empty husk I became after she died? She's the one person in the world I don't need the chip for. I'd kill _you_ in an instant for sure."

Xander glared angrily at him. "And Dawn? Without the chip would she be in danger too?" he asked.

"I wouldn't hurt her either," Spike said.

"And Willow and Tara?" Xander continued.

"They can live," Spike replied.

"What about Anya?"

"She's alright with me. OK, so there's lots of people I wouldn't kill," Spike said, throwing up his hands. "You're a prick though, and could stand a good beating," he pointed at Xander.

Xander nodded slowly, weighing the situation. "I can live with that," he replied.

"Then leave me be, you berk," Spike said, before sweeping out the door in a flash of black leather.

"I hope I'm not wrong to trust that guy around Buffy," Xander said, watching him go.

"You trust a thousand year old ex-demon with your genitals," Anya replied. "It would be hypocritical not to." Xander just looked at her and wondered at the weird choices he had to make in his life.

Spike caught up to Buffy quickly a few alleyways over. "Buffy!" he called out to her as he jogged up to her and caught her by the elbow. "Listen, pet, I hate to admit it but the berk's right. The problem's me, not you-" He was cut off as Buffy punched him square in the nose. "Ow! Sonuva- Something about my nose make it a fist magnet to you?"

"I told you not to follow me, Spike," Buffy said.

"I know, but Buffy," he said. "Don't want you getting all worked up over a bit of tech-" Buffy punched his face again, throwing her duffel bag to the ground. "Ow! Hey now."

Buffy started throwing punches and kicks at him, backing him down the alleyway. Spike dodged and blocked all her hits.

"Know it's _my_ chip that's on the fritz but it's no reason to take it out on me, love," Spike said, ducking under a flying kick and twisting Buffy's arm up behind her. "Didn't ask for this disaster in my head."

"Then fight me back," she said, twisting her body and landing an elbow to his gut. "You're a monster unleashed again, there's nothing stopping you."

"Don't want to hurt you, pet," Spike said, blocking her next punch. "Prefer a bit more pleasure with your pain."

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried," she countered, throwing an uppercut at him.

"What? How can you say that?" Spike protested, hand on his chest as he backed away from her swing. "We're equal foes, you and I."

"Then prove it!" she countered with a kick.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, before diving after her and ramming her bodily through the door of an old condemned building.

They stood up, and while Spike was still looking around at the run down state of the place Buffy took advantage and flew at him boot first. Spike caught her shoe as it landed on his chest, and pulled hard upward, bringing Buffy off her feet. She rolled out of the way before he could pin her down, and they began to fight in earnest, trading blows as only a master vampire and experienced Slayer could.

Spike dodged three punches in a row from Buffy, before he socked her in the jaw. "You're telegraphing your hits!" he goaded, jumping back out of range.

"And you're pulling your punches!" Buffy growled, marching toward him.

"I'm not the pansy fledges you fight every day, love," Spike replied, spinning around Buffy's punch and elbowing her between the shoulder blades. "Do you forget how hard I can hit?"

"The chip is never going to fire at this rate!" she said, sweeping her leg out behind her and catching Spike in the hip.

"What?" he said, stumbling back from the blow.

"Just hit harder," Buffy demanded, landing punch after punch to his ribcage. "Hit me until the chip goes off."

"It doesn't matter how hard I hit you," he said, jumping back. "The chip don't care. I'm just gonna end up really hurting you at this rate."

"Stop acting like you care about me!" Buffy shouted at him, throwing Spike into a wall so hard he left a hole behind him. "Your feelings aren't real! They're just the twisted obsession of a soulless monster!"

"You think that's all this is?" he asked, his anger showing though in his eyes. He grabbed Buffy by her shirt collar and flipped her over on her back, then pounced on her, pinning her legs with his knees and bringing her arms up over her head to trap her wrists in his fist.

"Maybe it started out that way, yeah," he said, his voice rough as he brought his face in close to hers. "Maybe just the thought of shagging you into the ground was enough for me to build a shrine in my basement to you. But it's more than that now."

"You chained me up and threatened to let Drusilla kill me if I didn't accept you," Buffy said. "You think that's love?"

"No. After," Spike corrected, bringing his free hand up to brush her hair out of her face. "After I realized that you could never love me back. After I had given up. After I stopped expecting anything in return. That's when I fell in love with you. _Real_ love."

Buffy managed to pull her hands free and boxed Spike on the ear, forcing him off of her. Buffy rolled to her feet and kicked Spike hard in the chest, backing him into a corner.

"You think I would have put my life on the line and stuck around for the battle with Glory if all I feel is a crush gone haywire?" Spike asked, trying to catch her fists and hold them in place. "Or stuck around with the rest of your soddin' friends to keep your sister safe after you were gone? I could have just left town with the Buffy bot if all I cared about was a perky blonde shag. I felt my heart get ripped outta my chest when I realized I'd be livin' in a world without you in it. That wasn't obsession. That was heartbreak. That was _real_."

"You don't have a heart to break, Spike," Buffy spat angrily as she hit him square in the chest.

Spike slumped at her words, dropping his defenses and letting Buffy land hit after hit on him while he was pinned to the wall.

"Come on! Fight me back!" Buffy screamed at him, putting more and more force behind each progressive hit. "Why are you just letting me hurt you?" She grabbed the lapels of his duster and pulled him towards her so he had to look her in the face.

Spike stared at Buffy in defeat, his eyes darting between hers. "Love hurts," he sighed.

Buffy's wild fury turned even more fierce, determined to get him to engage with her, any way she could. She slammed her mouth up against his, pushing him right back up against the wall again.

The kiss was different this time. It wasn't fiery like when they had kissed as the musical spell wore off, and it wasn't the thrilling kiss of a stranger like when they had lost their memories. This wasn't anything at all. Buffy suddenly realized that for all her forcefulness, Spike wasn't kissing her back. It just made her even angrier.

"If you're supposed to love me so much then why aren't you kissing me back?" she asked after pulling back.

Spike let his head fall back to rest on the damaged wall, looking down at her as if the answer should be obvious.

"Because you don't believe me."

Buffy couldn't tamp down the tears of frustration that welled up in her eyes. She didn't know what she was doing anymore. She had felt like she was incomplete ever since she was brought back from the dead. As if she was less human, and not all of Buffy made it back from the other side. And now, not only did Spike's chip seem to confirm that there was something wrong with her, but the monster himself was being too darn uncooperative to let her just take it out on him. The tears started flowing, and she threw her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck as the sobs began.

"Bloody hell," Spike murmured. "Buffy, love, I'm not rejecting you, I just..." he sighed, pausing to collect his thoughts. "Maybe I don't always know which way is up in terms of right and wrong, but I do know pain. And a good shag, even if it would definitely be the most mind-blowing sex you've ever had, isn't gonna fix this misery for you."

"It would distract me from it for a little bit though," Buffy said, her words muffled in his neck. "Isn't that good enough?"

"I care about you a lot, Buffy, but I gotta look out for myself here," he replied quietly, shaking his head against hers. "I can't be a real demon because of the chip. I can't be a real man without a soul. Know you don't think much of it, but my poor little heart is all I have left. I'd serve it to you on a silver platter if I thought you had a taste for it."

"That's disgusting," Buffy said, pulling back from his neck.

"Exactly my point," he replied with a somber smirk. "Wouldn't do to give you everything I've got if you don't want it anyway."

"Can't we have no strings attached, just for tonight?" Buffy asked, bringing her lips to his again and kissing him as gently as she could this time.

"You've already got every one of my strings wrapped around your little finger," he murmured into her lips. "I dance like a bloody puppet for you. I..." He trailed off at the sensation of her soft kisses.

Buffy was kissing him like she would kiss a lover, and Spike seemed to be getting caught up in the moment. He sighed as his hands snaked around her waist, subtly molding her body to his. Buffy brought her hands up to his face in response and tilted his head for better access to his mouth. As he returned her kiss more eagerly, Buffy trailed her hands from his face down his chest, until they came to his belt. She slowly started to unbuckle it, until he brought his hands to hers to stop her and pulled back.

Spike looked at her in awe, as if Buffy had shown him the face of god by kissing him lovingly. "If I did have a soul," he breathed, swallowing hard. "If I were a man, one who truly loved you... would you be asking me for just sex, no strings?"

Buffy didn't even really have to think about it. The whole reason she wanted just raw sex with Spike was because she didn't have to worry about hurting his feelings. He didn't have real feelings to hurt.

"No," she replied, her voice coming out a throaty whisper. Spike clenched his jaw in response, his face closing off the open awe he had shown her a moment before and morphing into angry disappointment.

Spike put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her body back at arms length. "S'why I can't," he said stoically.

"Can't you do _anything_?" Buffy asked, feeling her tears well back up again. "I just want to feel good again." She pushed out of Spike's grip and fell toward him, pounding her fists weakly against his chest as she buried her face in his neck once again. "I just want to feel anything at all..." she sobbed. She felt Spike's arms come up around her back as she hit him over and over.

"Shh," he soothed. "Okay, love. Okay." He slid his back down the wall until they were sitting on the ground with Buffy in his lap. Spike kissed her hard, in a way that would ensure any thoughts of chips or wrongness would be forced out of her head. Buffy gripped his neck for dear life and returned his kiss with the same ferocity.

Buffy didn't want to admit it, but Spike's kiss was the _perfect_ distraction. He kissed with everything he had, his whole body moving against her so that she felt him everywhere, not just against her lips. How was it that he could make her feel so much when she couldn't feel anything at all?

Buffy maneuvered her legs to each side of him, so she was straddling his waist. She shut her eyes tightly and blocked out anything other than the physical sensations as she kissed him brutally hard. She wanted to surround herself with Spike, make him overwhelm all of her senses so that there would be nothing left but him and her pleasure.

Spike's hand skirted up her bare thigh, pushing aside the shorts she had been wearing for her training session earlier. Buffy sighed as his touch wrapped around to her inner thigh and past her underwear, tingling with anticipation as he gently stroked the soft folds at her opening. When his fingers finally entered her, she cried out into his mouth.

He began stroking her most sensitive spot with his thumb, while thrusting two fingers in and out of her at a slow, sensual pace. She kept kissing him feverishly, sucking his tongue into her mouth, taking advantage of the sensation of _Spike_ every way she could. As the movements of his hand grew faster, she had to stop kissing him, as all feeling in her body seemed to be centered down in her hot core.

Holy _hells_ , was he good with his hands.

When she climaxed, she opened her eyes wide to see what he was doing to her. What she saw wasn't the face of a man enjoying her pleasure. He looked more like he was in pain. A single tear had escaped from the corner of his eye and streaked down his outer cheek before he had wiped it away.

After everything Buffy had done to try to make herself feel better, the sight of that tear had just made her feel more hollow.

* * *

 **Thanks for the reviews!**


	4. Wreckage

Buffy slowly came awake in the early morning light of her bedroom, finding tears swimming behind her eyelids. She wasn't sure why she should be crying. She didn't sense the overwhelming, bone-deep sadness that she had felt when her mom died. Actually her breakdown over the chip not treating her as human was the the first time she had really sobbed since coming back from the dead. Oh that's right, she could remember now why she would wake up with tears in her eyes. Shame.

She had basically coerced Spike into doing something he didn't want to do, crying all over him until he took pity on her and gave in. Buffy tried to remind herself that it didn't really matter since he didn't have a soul. He didn't need her heart to _really_ get what he really wanted out of their relationship. But that single stealthy tear she caught streaking down his cheek told her otherwise.

What did that tear mean? If Spike were a man instead of a monster, she would think that he felt abused by her taking advantage of his feelings for her. Buffy would figure that maybe he _did_ love, that he cared about her so much that he would be willing to hurt himself just to give her a moment of sweet release from her sickness with life.

But Buffy knew that was impossible. That explanation, even if it seemed to be the most obvious one, flew in the face of everything she knew about vampires and souls.

When Angel didn't have a soul, he was incapable of love. He even mocked the idea of it, taunting Buffy over her feelings for him. So Spike had to be just as incapable of love. Soulless vampires couldn't love, plain and simple. Spike's relationship with Drusilla could look like an exception on the surface, but was easy to explain away. _That_ definitely wasn't real love, those two just had some freaky fetish psycho thing going on together.

Real love is being willing to sacrifice your own needs. Like the time Spike let Buffy go because she was holding Drusilla hostage and didn't want to his girlfriend hurt... No wait. That was obviously still just self-interest. If Spike lost his bang buddy he'd probably get bored so he just traded one selfish need for another.

Real love is being willing to pay the ultimate price for someone you care about. Like that other time that Spike was willing to dust to keep Dawn a secret from Glory... No wait. That had to be because Spike knew that if he gave Dawn to Glory that Buffy would stake him herself.

Real love is being able to be nice to someone without wanting to get into their pants. Like how Spike was always nice to Buffy's mom, and Dawn... and Tara... No wait. That was just because... Because they were nice to him, and he liked the positive attention?

It was getting really hard for Buffy to come up with reasons for his surprisingly human behavior. Spike was just... weird. Buffy couldn't really explain his actions, now or ever. The excuses she made up for any time he did anything even remotely decent seemed lame, even to her.

Buffy knew she definitely couldn't start connecting his behavior to all vampire kind. She had staked hundreds of vamps. If any one of them could love and possibly not kill people because of that love? That made her a murderer, and she wasn't prepared to accept that possibility right now.

Then where did that leave Spike? Buffy wanted to believe that he just couldn't love. It was the only thing that really made sense with the rest of her worldview. Then that tear? Maybe he was just overjoyed that he finally got into the Slayer. That was another dumb explanation and Buffy knew it. She couldn't deny it any longer.

Spike was different. There was something off about him, even before the chip, that made it so that he could feel things for people other than himself. Buffy wasn't sure she believed it was love. She just wasn't ready to accept that yet. But... maybe she would stop punching him in the nose.

She sighed and rolled out of bed, dragging her feet over to the closet to face the day. Or even harder, to face her friends, to face her sister, and to face Spike.

* * *

Buffy quietly shut the back door of the Bronze behind her and leaned back against the cool metal, closing her eyes. Xander and Anya had convinced her to come out with them tonight and to even bring Dawn along, but Buffy wasn't really feeling up for busting a move on the dance floor. She had snuck away while the three of them were having actual fun dancing, so she could just be alone for a bit. She sighed, opening her eyes, only to realize that Spike was actually there in the alleyway with her, sitting on a stack of crates across from the door and quietly smoking a cigarette.

He had one boot up on the crate, staring at her with an unreadable expression, his hand holding the cigarette blocking the view of his mouth. Out of all the times she had to face him, whether he was trying to kill her or profess his love, she had never felt more intimidated by him than she did right now.

When she had to apologize.

"I haven't seen you around all day," she said quietly as she walked toward him. "Or night."

"Wasn't sure I wanted to see you," Spike replied, lowering his eyes and blowing one last stream of smoke before he took the cigarette out of his mouth and stubbed it out on the crate he was perched on. "But then I remembered I always want to see you. Damned aggravating, that." He hopped down off the crates and began to walk down the alley.

"Look, about what happened last night..." Buffy began, stopping him in his tracks.

"What's this?" he asked, the surprised look on his face not totally managing to hide the hurt in his eyes. "You actually want to talk about it?" Of course he wasn't going to make this easy.

"I was really confused about the chip not working on me," she explained. "I didn't really have my head on straight."

"Course," Spike replied, a fire burning behind his cool blue eyes. "Only natural response is to use me like a sex toy. I'm not a real boy anyway, right?"

"That's not what I-"

"Gives you a little thrill, don't it?" Spike interrupted, too angry to let Buffy get a word in. "Knowing you have this power over me. Knowing that you could get me to do anything you want. That I'm your slave."

"You're not my-"

"You got a mean streak in you that gets off on making me do what I don't want to. 'Lil bit o' sadism running through that dark current."

"Spike!" Buffy cut in, stomping a frustrated foot. "That's not what happened."

"Yeah, yeah. I know the drill," Spike said with a sneer, his anger simmering down to a cool burn in response to Buffy's heating up. He dug out another cigarette from his coat pocket before lighting it. "Didn't happen, won't speak a word of it," he added, taking a long drag. "Don't fret, sweetheart, we'll just keep resetting things til you can pretend you never knew me to begin with."

"What I was _going_ to say," Buffy ground out through gritted teeth. "Was that I did the one thing you asked me not to do. I- I used you, and I'm sorry."

Spike froze with the cigarette in hand halfway to his mouth, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You feelin' alright, pet?" he asked, reaching a cool hand out to her forehead to check if she had a fever.

"Apparently not, if I thought apologizing to you would make things any better," Buffy said, crossing her arms.

"Oh," he replied, popping the cigarette back in his mouth and putting his hands in his duster pockets. He at least had the good grace to look sheepish. "Well, I guess... it does brighten up my evening a bit."

"Yeah?" Buffy asked quietly, a small smile fighting to break free on her lips.

Spike let out a heavy sigh. "I don't need you to grovel, Buffy," he told her. "Though, uh, that would be a pretty provocative sight." Buffy rolled her eyes at his correction. Whenever Spike seemed like he was about to say the right thing, he went and did it the wrong way. "Just... don't want you lookin' down on me is all," he finished quietly, his eyes landing on his boots as he shuffled them against the asphalt.

Buffy looked back at him thoughtfully. Not looking down on people was something she could easily do. She tried to do it on principle, in fact. Not looking down on monsters was another story. In the end, it all came down to how she labeled Spike.

"I think I can do that," she said, putting as much conviction in her voice as she could.

Spike looked back up at her with a small appreciative smile, and for a moment, Buffy could swear that his eyes actually sparkled. He took the cigarette out of his mouth to say something, but the smile melted off his face as he caught sight of something behind Buffy.

"Bloody hell, that soddin' vodnik is back," he said, tossing the cigarette aside and nodding to the alleyway behind her. Buffy spun around and stepped back, feeling Spike step closer to her at the same time.

"Oh, please don't confuse me for the Seeker," he replied, taking a step closer to them. "I'm the Refiner, much more esteemed."

Buffy looked him up and down. While he had the same older guy face as the last vodnik, this one looked a lot more... nerdy. His plaid button-down was tucked into his way too high Dockers, and he even had a white doctor's coat and pocket protector to complete the look.

"I was hoping to find your motley crew all together so I could have as much fun as the Seeker did," the Refiner continued. "But from what he told me, you two are the most interesting of the group anyway."

"He's alive?" Buffy asked. His whole fading away into the wind thing didn't look super healthy.

"Oh, it takes more than just breaking a little trinket to kill us, Miss," he said. "You merely sent him home."

The last vodnik was big on the explainy rants before he cast his spell, and this one was already shaping up to have loose lips of his own. Buffy glanced at Spike quickly before looking back at the vodnik. Maybe she could wring some information out of this guy to help set her mind at ease.

"So what's the deal with the soul?" she asked him. "Your evil twin said it had three parts before he took our memories. He kept droning on and on about vampires and zombies."

"He compared vampires to zombies?" the Refiner asked, raising an unimpressed brow. "That's such a basic way of explaining how some vampires have hearts."

"Some?" Buffy asked.

"Well I doubt this will come as a surprise to _you_ , but of course not every soulless monster has the capacity to love," he replied.

Buffy released a mental sigh of relief. She didn't have to sweat all the stakings she had done at least. "Well what about this guy?" she asked, motioning to Spike. "He can kill me but won't because he says he loves me. You're saying I should believe him?"

"Oi, this a topic of public discussion now?" Spike objected. "Since when did you have a vodnik therapist?"

"Is he an older vampire?" the Refiner asked. Buffy looked over at Spike, waiting for his answer.

Spike stared hard back at Buffy, before sighing and turning to the Refiner with his answer. "One hundred forty-seven years old, give or take."

"Hmm, there's not a lot of older vamps still walking the earth to let me confirm my hypothesis," the Refiner said. "But I have a theory. I believe vampires that were virgins at the time of their turning are more likely to retain some small piece of their heart."

"Psh- oh please, I wasn't a _virgin_!" Spike sputtered. "I had loads of sexual escapades as a human! So many I can't even remember!"

"Do you remember the first time you had sexual intercourse with another human?" the vodnik asked.

"Well, no... but-"

"And you were turned, going by your age and accent, in Victorian England?" he continued.

"Yeah..." Spike answered slowly.

"The height of sexual repression?"

"Suppose so."

"You were most likely a virgin," the Refiner concluded.

"All right Buffy, let's kill this guy," Spike replied, cracking his knuckles. Just as he said that, the back door of the Bronze swung open and Dawn strolled out.

"Hey Buffy, Xander wants to know if you want another soda. Oh..." she stopped in her tracks when she saw the vodnik standing just down the alleyway.

"Get back inside, Niblet," Spike warned her.

"I'd say the more, the merrier," the Refiner said, raising a hand into the air before closing it into a fist. The door to the Bronze swung shut behind Dawn with his movement. Dawn spun around and struggled to pull it open, but it was just as sealed as the Magic Box doors had been when they were under the Seeker's spell. The ends of the alleyway went unnaturally dark at the same moment. Buffy had an uncomfortable feeling that if she tried to walk into that darkness, there just wouldn't be any world over there.

"Dawn, get behind me," Buffy ordered. Dawn didn't bother putting up an argument and scrambled back behind her sister. Spike stepped forward to stand beside Buffy and help guard Dawn. "Everybody keep calm, I'm getting some good info here," Buffy said.

"We're all calm here," the Refiner said. "No tomfoolery whatsoever."

Buffy eyed him suspiciously before grilling him further. "OK, so you're telling me that a vamp can have a heart and feelings and be all lovey-dovey? How can that work without a soul when the soul is what tells you what's right and wrong?"

"Well, even vampires that are turned with a bit of heart tend to ignore it," the vodnik replied. "Vampires capable of love tend to fall for other vampires. Like attracts like of course, and a heartless vampire isn't going to encourage any of the loyalty or selflessness that comes with real love."

Buffy didn't miss the wince pass across Spike's face at the Refiner's explanation. She knew he was hit with the memories of Drusilla with that one.

"Have you ever met an addict, Miss Slayer? A human one, even?" the vodnik continued. "They lose all ability to think about anyone but themselves and just focus on their habit. They have a devil on their shoulder whispering to take just one more shot, one more hit, one last drag. Even the people they care about in their lives are drowned out by the call of their addiction."

"So even a human with a heart can lose it," Dawn piped up from behind Buffy.

"Yes, of course. And when it comes to vampires, that demon is housed right in the seat of their soul. It's much harder to ignore than a simple chemical dependency. It's also much easier to be selfish, even with the presence of a heart," the Refiner explained. "You could say the heart is a vampire's sponsor, but the vampire has to join the AA program in the first place to even want to listen to that sponsor."

"Pretty sure the chip enrolled me in the AA program against my will," Spike muttered.

"Wait, so Spike _does_ have a heart?" Buffy asked. "His love is real? He's not just obsessive and delusional?"

"I knew it!" Dawn exclaimed.

"Appreciate it, Bit," Spike said, not taking his eyes off Buffy.

"What does that even mean?" Buffy asked the Refiner.

"You know what it means," he answered. "It means he has the capacity to love. The ability to feel empathy for another sentient creature. Possibly even the willingness to sacrifice himself or his needs for the sake of someone else." The vodnik looked between the vampire guarding the Slayer and her younger sister. "But I have a feeling you've seen evidence of this already."

"Yeah..." Buffy replied quietly, sliding her eyes over to Spike standing by her side. "I have." Spike tilted her head at her, his lips parting with a silent question.

"Then you just can't get past the thought of a vampire in love then?" the vodnik asked her.

"I mean," Buffy said, turning her attention back to the Refiner. "Spike's kind of a rude punk."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said about me," Spike quipped.

"Well, I wonder," the Refiner said, putting his hands into his coat pockets. "What does a rude punk in love look like when I threaten the one he loves?" He removed his hands from his pockets, a wooden cup held in one of them.

Spike moved in front of Buffy, his demon face immediately sliding into place. "He looks dangerous," he growled at the vodnik.

"Yes," he chuckled. "I suppose I was a bit too on the nose with that one. No real reason to test that. What's more interesting would be..." He put his hand on his chin and stroked his perfectly trimmed goatee. "What happens when the vampire in love loses his heart?"

He flung a shimmery liquid out of his cup at Spike, though it looked like it evaporated before it hit him. Spike flew backwards off his feet all the same, spinning in the air and landing on his side facing away from Buffy. She stepped back and shifted Dawn at an angle, putting herself between both Spike, the vodnik, and her sister. Spike slowly rolled onto his stomach and began to push himself up, the demon still on his face.

"Spike?" Dawn called out to him. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, Niblet," he replied, looking up at her before locking his yellow eyes with Buffy's. "Better than OK. Haven't felt like this in a long time." He stood up, and Buffy instinctively took a step back, shoving her sister back with her.

"Like what?" Dawn asked.

"Ravenous," he nearly growled, before lunging directly at them.

Buffy dove hard to dodge his attack, shoving Dawn out of the way with a shriek. "Dawn! Up the fire escape! Now!" she shouted, throwing out her legs to catch Spike in the gut as he came at them again. Dawn nodded and scrambled away from Spike and Buffy, climbing up the ladder as fast as she could.

Buffy rolled to her feet just as Spike flung himself at Buffy fangs first. He was too close to dodge and his aim was clearly her neck, so Buffy flung up her arm to block. His teeth immediately sank into her wrist as his hands looped around her forearm. Buffy cried out at the bite, hitting him hard in the temple to get him to release his hold on her.

"Mmm, Slayer," he groaned, licking the bit of spilled blood off his fingers. "I've had twenty year bourbon that wasn't as delicious as your blood. How can you keep this all to yourself?"

"Because I need it to live!" Buffy shouted, kicking out at him to force him to keep his distance.

"You could go without a pint or two," he replied, gnashing his teeth at her leg before she pulled it back out of reach.

"We can go and pick some up for you at the hospital then," Buffy said, sweeping her leg out to trip him, he managed to hook her leg with his arm on the way down and brought her to the floor with him.

"No, it's got to be yours. Never had anything like it in all my unlife," he replied, crawling toward her and getting a nip in on her finger before she could roll out of the way.

The fight was tricky. Most vamps fought to kill, which meant they all used the same moves. They were always going for the neck, going for the kill. Even when Buffy had fought Spike before, whether for practice or for real, it wasn't like this. He was just trying to drink from her one sip at a time, not caring if the bite wasn't enough to kill her. It meant he didn't care about blocks or counters or trying to best her. All he wanted was to feed. Every punch she threw exposed her limbs for a bite.

"Buffy!" Dawn shouted from up on the fire escape. Buffy was far enough back from Spike that she could spare a glance at her sister, and watched as she threw her shoe directly at the vodnik's hands, causing him to drop the wooden cup.

The cup!

Buffy dove for it, and managed to snatch it out of the Refiner's grasp just as he had picked it up. Spike landed on her just as she started to get up, biting straight through her jeans into her thigh.

"This is just a spell, Spike!" Buffy shouted at him, hitting him over the head with the wooden cup, releasing his bite on her leg. "We'll have your heart back to you in no time." She inspected the cup as she danced away from him. The cup wasn't even cracked, and Spike's head was the hardest thing Buffy could think of. It must have been made out of some sort of special hardwood, and she was going to have to figure out some other way to destroy it.

"Doesn't make much difference to you, does it?" Spike asked from the ground, holding the back of his head with his hand as he slowly got to his feet. "You never believed I could love you anyway."

"No, I didn't," Buffy replied. "And that wasn't fair to you. That's why I was apologizing to you earlier."

"Oh, Don't make me laugh," Spike sneered, stalking her like a predator. "You apologized because you're a tease. You love stringing me along like a soddin' dog on a leash." He swung a fist that Buffy dodged easily. "Any time I try to get some distance between us you bat your pretty eyes at me to pull me back in." He threw another punch at her, backing her towards a wall. "Well now those strings you wanted to cut so badly are gone. You want me, baby? Free of love and complications?" He held his arms out wide to her. "Here I am."

Spike shoved her hard towards the wall, and ducked his head towards her neck. Buffy brought her hand to his face to block his fangs, only to feel them sink into the soft skin between her thumb and pointer finger. She hissed and slammed the cup into his jugular to release his bite.

"You're the one that said I couldn't handle your red hot fire or whatever," she countered, managing to squeak out from beneath him before he got another bite in.

Fire! That was it! She could burn the wooden cup to destroy it. Buffy knew Spike always kept a lighter in his jeans pocket, too. The tricky part would be getting it from him.

"You can barely handle being _alive_ ," Spike cut, coming after her again. "You've been given a second chance at a life with superpowers, and all you can think about is that you came back wrong."

"It's because of your chip that I was freaking out over that!" Buffy shouted, throwing a punch at him, only to narrowly miss another bite.

"Oh, poor little lost girl," he goaded, landing a hit to her stomach. "She doesn't fit in anywhere, she's got no one to love."

Buffy felt herself getting angrier from his taunting and tried to squash it back down. It reminded her too much of original recipe Spike, before he had switched to team Buffy. His weird insights, his uncanny ability to read her, how easy it was for him to take her down a peg with a cruel jab... It was something she hadn't seen from him in a while. She didn't realize how much a difference Spike's love for her had made until it was gone.

Buffy managed to maneuver them around and kicked Spike back against the brick wall, pinning one of his arms against the wall behind him and shoving her hand in his jeans' front pocket. His free hand shot to her wrist just as her fingers felt the lighter in his pocket.

"Little to the left love," he growled. He twisted his waist a bit until her fingers were instead grazing the evidence of his obvious arousal. Buffy gasped, and shot her eyes to his.

"That's it," he sighed, thrusting his pelvis against her hand. "You want a little appetizer before I get to the main course, that's just fine with me."

Buffy got over her shock and yanked her hand out of his pocket, pulling the lighter out along with it. "Don't be such a pig, Spike," she sneered at him.

"Can't change my nature sweetheart," he said with a wide grin.

Buffy kicked him hard back into the wall, shaking some bricks loose. She flipped open his lighter and held the flame up to the cup as she backed away from him, but it just seemed to darken the wood a little.

"Won't work without an accelerant, pet," Spike said, winking at her. "Too bad I don't see any around here."

"Thanks for the tip," Buffy replied, skirting her way toward the fire escape and putting the lighter in her pocket. Luckily, though it definitely wasn't lucky at the time, Buffy knew after a mishap with some scented candles and a manicure that nail polish caught fire really easily. _And_ she had remembered seeing Spike putting the black nail polish in his duster pocket the other day. Now she just had to get _that_ from him. Once more into the breach.

Spike launched himself at Buffy, and when she ducked away from him he landed against the fire escape ladder instead. Everyone froze in silence as Spike looked up the ladder at Dawn standing on the upper level, then back at Buffy with a smile on his face.

All at once, everyone started to move. Spike climbed up the fire escape ladder, Buffy chased after him, and Dawn climbed the stairs higher to try to get to the top of the roof. But Spike was the fastest of the three of them, and almost as soon as Dawn made it to the rooftop Spike had nabbed her and pulled her back against his chest. He dragged them to the edge of the roof and spun them around to face Buffy just as she made it to the top of the fire escape.

"Spike, put her down," Buffy warned, walking toward them slowly. "You can't even hurt her because of the chip."

"I don't have to hurt her," he replied, holding Dawn further away from him and over the edge of the building. One look at the ground below her caused Dawn to start screaming. "It's the landing that will do it."

"No stop!" Buffy shouted, calming down slightly as he pulled Dawn back into his grip. "Spike, think about this for a second. This is Dawn!" Spike shook his head at her.

"Can't think anymore, Buffy," he said. "I've been paralyzed by thoughts of you for far too long. With those gone all that's left is your sweet blood." He lowered his head at her, flashing his fangs. "Won't take all of it. Wouldn't do to drain the spigot if I can have the barrel all to myself."

Buffy just gave him an exasperated huff. "Are you just expecting me to offer you my neck based off the promise that you'll leave Dawn alone?"

"That's exactly what's going to happen," he replied.

Buffy almost laughed at him. She had so many arguments knocking around in her head as to why that was a stupid idea that she didn't know where to begin.

"Buffy, please," Dawn whimpered. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she looked back at her sister. "Just do it."

"Dawn..." Buffy said softly. "He doesn't have a heart."

"I don't care what your excuse is!" Dawn cried. "Yesterday it was that he had no soul, today it's that he has no heart. I'm tired of whatever reasons you just won't _deal_ with Spike."

Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth and grinned at Buffy, expecting to get his way. Buffy knew the situation wasn't as simple as Dawn made it out to be, but her chickens were coming home to roost. Whatever that means.

"OK, Dawn," Buffy said quietly, resigned to her fate. She had already died before to save her sister, she didn't want to die _again_. Not really. If Spike drank too much it might actually take this time, and Buffy felt really afraid for the first time since she came back to life. "Get down the fire escape as fast as possible as soon as he lets you go."

Buffy held out her arm to Dawn, stepping closer. Dawn reached out and grabbed her palm, before Spike grabbed Buffy's wrist and yanked her forward. He spun Dawn out of the way while swapping Buffy into his arms, ignoring the hurt look Dawn shot his way as she climbed down the fire escape.

Spike held Buffy like a lover, his hips pressed tight against hers with his arms locked around her neck as he pulled her hair out of the way. Buffy had to stall for time until she got a hold of that nail polish. The first vodnik had mentioned _three_ things that made up the human spirit. The heart, the soul, and memories. Maybe...

"What about your memories, Spike?" Buffy asked him, searching the golden eyes so close to her face. "The other part of humanity. Do you at least remember loving me?"

Spike paused, letting the demon fade from his face as he looked back at her in thought. Buffy very carefully snuck her free hand into his duster pocket, and pulled the nail polish out while he considered his words.

"I do," he replied gravely. "I'll always remember being in awe of you, Buffy. Don't need a heart to know you're the best there ever was. S'why I couldn't help falling in love with you." He brushed a strand of hair framing her face back behind her ear, before his expression turned hard. "But the result of that love? Longing, rejection, jealousy... Powerlessness to do anything about what I wanted most." The demon slipped back onto his face once again as he grinned back at her. "Not being able to feel anymore cleared that right up."

Spike bit down hard on her neck in a flash, and Buffy cried out in pain. With the embrace he held her in and the way he was grinding his hips against hers, the whole situation felt even more intimate than when she had let Angel feed on her. She felt something hard pressing right up against the sensitive area between her legs, blurring the line between pleasure and pain. Buffy sensed a tiny, traitorous part of her wanting to wrap her legs around his waist and start kissing him from the rush.

Instead, she worked her arm free from where he had pinned it against her body and tore him off of her, backing away from him while she could. Buffy put her hand to her neck and felt the wound. She didn't think she could stand to lose much more blood before it started to really slow her down.

Spike was right back on her again, though he had lost his demon face. Buffy ducked down to try to get her neck out of his way, but she had misjudged his target. This time, his mouth went right for hers, capturing it in a brutal kiss.

Buffy found the taste of her own blood in her mouth alarming. That sort of thing usually only happened when she had taken one hit too many. It was so unexpected that she hesitated for just a second, which apparently Spike took as acceptance. He snaked his hand under her blouse to cup her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple as he drew his tongue over her lips.

"Should we take this back to my place?" he whispered huskily against her mouth.

Buffy finally managed to come back to herself at his suggestion, and pushed him hard away from her. She glared back at him, breathing hard with both rage and hunger. She hated that Spike could make her body react that way even when he was a pure monster. It just made her even more determined to get him his heart back.

Buffy put her head down and rushed at Spike, tackling him and pushing him back until they toppled over the side of the building. They landed on the ground hard, with Spike on the bottom. He groaned in pain, stunned by the fall as Buffy sat up and tried to shake it off. Though she still felt dizzy and had the wind knocked out of her, she made quick work of the nail polish cap and poured the liquid all over the wooden cup, all while sitting on top of Spike.

She fished the lighter out of her pocket, set the cup on the ground, and held the flame to the slick of nail polish, immediately igniting the wooden cup. The flames licked over the entire cup, though it looked like it was a very slow burn. Even still, the reaction from the vodnik was instant.

"Well, I suppose my turn is up then," he said, approaching the pair on the ground as his hair began to turn white. "I did have quite a lot of fun watching the two of you at least. The next time you see us we'll be all business." He appeared to evaporate and blow away on the wind, just like his twin had.

Dawn approached carefully once the vodnik had disappeared. Buffy put her feet on Spike's arms to keep him pinned to the ground, just in case.

"Spike? Are you in there?" Dawn asked.

"Niblet..." he ground out after a quick glance at her, then squeezed his eyes shut. "Christ, love, I'm so sorry."

Dawn leaned over him, the hesitation all over her face. "I know it was because of the spell, but still," she said, before rearing her hand back and slapping him hard across the face.

Spike swallowed heavily and opened his eyes to the sky, refusing to make eye-contact with either sister. "Yeah..." he sighed.

"Spike, just stay down," Buffy told him. "Don't even move until we're three blocks over."

"Be here all night," he said quietly. Buffy thought she saw tears in his eyes as she climbed off of him. She put her arm around Dawn's shoulders as she headed towards the back door of the Bronze.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," came the soft voice from behind them. Buffy turned and looked back at Spike, finding him still lying on the ground, not looking at them. She gave a heavy sigh, before turning back around and heading back into the Bronze.

* * *

 **I figured if the show can use heavy-handed metaphors for addiction then so can I!**


	5. Going, Going

Buffy was tired.

But more than that, she was _always_ tired. Every night when she went to bed she wished she could fall asleep and never wake up again. Every morning the sun shining through the windows woke her up with a big steaming cup of fresh disappointment. She wanted to just roll over and fall back asleep, staying in bed all day long, responsibilities be damned. But just as sure as the sun would rise, there would be something to deal with to drag her to her feet. This morning, it was the smell of burning pancakes.

Buffy sighed, rolled out of bed and into some clothes, and made her way downstairs. She found Dawn in the kitchen scraping a blackened pancake out of a pan and into the sink.

"Need some help with that?" Buffy asked her sister.

"I got enough of your help last night, thanks," she replied curtly.

"Wait, hold up a second. Why are you being all teenage snippy with me now?" Buffy asked.

Dawn dropped the pan into the sink and turned off the stove. "Sundays are supposed to be pancake breakfast with Spike," Dawn answered, turning around to face her sister. "But I found a note on my window this morning saying he didn't want to upset us so he's staying away."

"And that's somehow my fault... why?" Buffy asked.

"I never stay mad at Spike. He knows that," Dawn said. "He's staying away because of you."

"He drank my blood, Dawn," Buffy stated flatly, folding her arms across her chest. "Against my will."

"So? I thought you liked it when guys treated you like garbage," Dawn cut.

"Woah, woah. Where's this coming from all of a sudden?" Buffy asked, throwing her hands out.

"All your boyfriends turned out to be jerks," Dawn said, "So I just thought that was your thing."

"They didn't _start out_ that way," Buffy argued. "They were really nice to begin with, and just happened to do jerk things that ended our relationships."

"Well Spike started out as a jerk and has turned out to be really nice. He just happened to get spelled last night," Dawn said. "And for a moment there, it almost sounded like you liked him better without his heart."

"OK, one, Spike would _kill_ you if he knew you called him nice," Buffy started. "And two, I did not like anything of Spike without his heart."

Buffy had to do some mental gymnastics to make the second sentence not a total lie. Spike coming after her and her sister was terrifying, nothing sexy about it. He was the complete monster that Buffy always pretended he was, and totally beneath her. The part that her body reacted to was just _him_. The passion, the sexiness, the bravado, all of that was there whether he had a heart or not. It drove her up the wall, but it kind of thrilled her too.

"Does that mean you like Spike when he does have his heart?" Dawn asked.

"Yes. No. I dunno," Buffy waffled.

"Spike's big heart is pretty amazing, Buffy," Dawn told her. "And he tries really hard to be good, even when he thinks he's bad. Doesn't that count for something?"

Buffy looked back at Dawn for a moment before turning to the back kitchen door. She really didn't want her little sister to have any part of whatever she had to figure out with Spike, so it was better to just get the hell out of dodge. Whatever that means.

"I gotta go," Buffy said, heading out the door without looking back.

Dawn picked up a kitchen towel and threw it across the room, shrieking in frustration. At the sound of her outburst, Willow popped her head into the kitchen.

"Um, is everything OK, Dawnie?" she asked, noticing the charred remains of a pancake in the sink. "Do you want me to make you an omelet?"

Dawn huffed and crossed her arms across her chest as she leaned back against the sink, before her eyes lit up with an idea.

"Willow, I want to cast a spell," she said, turning toward the redhead.

"Oh, sure," Willow said. "Though I think I gotta warn ya, food spells tend to come out all chewy no matter what you're trying to make."

"No, not that," Dawn said, stepping up to Willow. "I need some kind of spell to make Buffy stop deluding herself."

Willow paled at her request. "I dunno, Dawn," she said uneasily. "I'm already the reason Buffy got ripped out of heaven. Even if she hasn't said anything about it, I get the feeling that she blames me. It might be better if she can just work this out on her own."

Dawn threw her hands out to her side. "This has nothing to do with that," she complained. "She would be totally fine and back to normal sister behavior if she could just get over herself and admit that she has feelings for-" Dawn cut herself off, knowing it would turn into a much bigger conversation if she mentioned Spike. "Pancakes," she covered.

"You want her to admit her love for pancakes?" Willow asked in confusion.

"Yeah," Dawn said, brushing Willow's concerns aside. "It's just something she's been all hung up on lately and she refuses to talk to me until she's figured them out."

"Oh, well that's... OK, I guess," Willow said. "I think there's an introspection spell we could try. It's supposed to make anything that's distracting you disappear so you can focus on your main problem."

"Wait, like magical Ritalin?" Dawn asked.

"I've..." Willow said hesitantly. "Actually never tried this spell out before, so... could be!" she finished cheerily.

"Sure, whatever," Dawn said. "I'll try anything."

* * *

Buffy made her way through the cemetery as she headed for Spike's crypt. It was still early enough in the morning that he might not have gone to sleep yet, and she wanted to try to catch him alone before he could avoid her. Him drinking from her like a Hi-C box was pretty bad, but it was hard to stay mad at him when it was a spell that caused it. Buffy wondered if he would be all weird about it now that he had tasted her blood. She didn't want it to ruin their... whatever it is that was going on between them. Not when she had only just started coming to terms with the fact that his love for her was genuine.

She already knew she was attracted to Spike. There was no point trying to lie to herself about that little fact of life anymore. But the thought that he wasn't just a creepy obsessive and was in love with her for real? It changed things. It didn't make Buffy automatically have feelings for him or anything. She wasn't even sure if she could. But she didn't want to write him off anymore. If she could figure things out between them, maybe she could even...

Even what? Buffy wasn't even sure what she was expecting anymore. To give him a chance, maybe?

Maybe.

Buffy kicked open the door to Spike's crypt on instinct, cringing when she realized she should have knocked. She was just so used to treating him like... well, a monster. She paused at the threshold when she found the crypt empty.

Buffy wandered into the crypt for a couple steps, before being drawn to a little leather bound book lying open on the sarcophagus. Just as she reached to pick it up, it snapped shut and hovered up into the air.

"Hey, hands off!" she heard Spike say.

"What the-" Buffy looked all around, trying to find the source of the voice, but coming up empty. "Spike, are you invisible?" she asked.

"What?" Spike asked. The book hovered back and forth a little bit as he checked himself out. "S'pose I am," he replied. "This your revenge spell for last night? Bit of a light touch, innit? I could get into a heap of mischief this way."

"I didn't do it," Buffy said. "Are you sure it wasn't you? Maybe you felt so bad you wanted to disappear or something?"

"Don't think so, pet," the voice answered. "Felt like a right bloody git after last night, but not so that I never wanted you to look at me again. Was hoping I could make things right with you," he added quietly.

"Yeah, about that," Buffy said. "Last night was kind of a big deal, and I want to talk about it."

"What, right now?" he asked. The book hovered over to the door where the sunlight was streaming in. No smoke or fire to be found. "When I could go outside and let the sunlight pass right through me?"

"Well you did kinda... drink me," Buffy said. She heard him sigh heavily in response.

"Yeah, you're right," he said. "I don't get to go on holiday when my work's not done."

Buffy couldn't believe it, but she actually felt sort of bad for him now. "I guess I should go try to figure out what happened to you first," she said.

"Compared to losing my heart," Spike said, putting the book down. "Invisibility is a walk in the park. Ooh, there's an idea," he said. "Oh, but uh, whatever you need me to do to make things up to you, I'm on it."

Buffy looked at the spot where she thought Spike was standing and chewed on her lip. "You wanna grab a cup of coffee?" she asked.

"More of a hard liquor bloke myself," his voice sounded from much closer than Buffy thought, causing her to jump. "Not as easy to have a chat in a crowded bar though."

"Yeah," Buffy replied, looking around for any trace of him. She got the feeling he was circling her.

"The Espresso Pump has the weekly poetry slam tonight at nine," came his voice from behind her this time. Buffy spun around to face him, but there wasn't even a footprint to give away his position. "If that sounds like your kind of scene."

Buffy could swear she heard a laugh in his voice. She shivered involuntarily as she felt Spike blowing air on her bare arm. Oh he thought he could mess with her, did he? Buffy crossed her arms and stood her ground, determined not to be unsettled by an invisible Spike. "It's a date," she said, with a confident nod.

"I..." he said from beside her, the surprise clear in his voice. "Yeah, alright."

"Great, I'll meet you there at nine," Buffy said, walking toward the door. "I'm gonna go see if Xander and Anya can find anything in the books on a cure for a sudden case of invisibility. See ya then. Or hear ya then, I guess." She left the crypt without looking back or closing the door.

"Right," the voice in the empty room said to itself.

* * *

Buffy walked into the Espresso Pump unsure of what to look for, since her date was invisible. She guessed she was just going to have let Spike come to her, and found an empty table for two in a quiet corner in the back. As soon as she sat down though, she let out a squeak as a pair of arms snaked across her waist and held her in the invisible lap she just sat in.

"Great pick, love," Spike's voice came from behind her. "We should take you to a carnival to play some shell games. Get you a nice big teddy bear in no time with your luck."

Spike's arms were bare, so he wasn't wearing his duster. It probably wasn't invisible like the clothes he was wearing when he got spelled. Either that or he was naked. Buffy resisted touching him to find out, and pulled herself out of his hold to go sit in the opposite chair.

"You know you're really bad at this whole remorse thing," Buffy said to the empty chair. "I thought you were supposed to be groveling for my forgiveness."

"You wouldn't enjoy my grovelling if you didn't get to see it," he replied. Buffy pouted a bit at his comment because it was probably true. "'Sides, I had a bloody great day," he continued. "Got to frolic in the sunshine like soddin' Bambi. Got to cause a little bit of mayhem. And to top it all off I get to end the day with our little rendezvous. Left me downright chipper, it has."

"Mayhem?" Buffy asked. "What kind of mayhem?"

"Nothing to get your panties in a twist over," he replied. "Switched up some license plates at the hospital. Nicked some dosh from the loan shark 'cross town. Followed _you_ round for a bit. Didn't know you liked to spend so much time in the triple-X section of the video store, kitten," he said.

"I- I was just looking at the titles! Because of the puns!" Buffy defended, her voice getting incredibly high pitched.

"I could pick up a few vids for you if you're too shy to do it yourself," he replied. Buffy could practically hear his mocking grin. "We could light some candles and watch them together, make a whole evening of it."

"Oh, I can't wait for this stupid invisibility spell to wear off," Buffy muttered, burying her face in her hands.

"You find out anything about it?" Spike asked.

"Yeah, Dawn got Willow to cast a spell to give you what you deserved," she replied with air quotes. "I didn't think she was that mad at you, but I guess I still have more to learn about reading angsty teenagers. They said the spell will wear off in the morning."

"You sure you wouldn't rather be with little sis tonight?" he asked, his voice turning serious. "'Fraid I scared her pretty bad dangling her off a roof and all."

"She doesn't want anything to do with me, so she went out with Tara and Willow," she answered. "Apparently it's my fault for letting the whole thing happen in the first place. Besides, I like poetry." Buffy looked towards the little makeshift stage at the front of the coffee shop. A girl was reading an Edgar Allen Poe poem she recognized from high school. "How about you?" she asked, turning back to the empty chair in front of her. "You already knew about this weekly poetry thing here. You come to these often?"

"Been a few times before," came the reply.

"You didn't strike me as the java swilling beatnik type," Buffy said, a smile growing on her face.

"I actually did the beatnik scene in Italy back in the 50s," he said, the chair giving a little creak as he leaned back in it. "You tend to reinvent yourself a lot when you live forever."

Since Buffy couldn't actually see Spike, she only had a mental image to go on. At his beatnik comment, the picture she had of him leaning back into his chair turned into Beatnik Spike. This looked pretty much like regular Spike, just with sunglasses and a beret. She grinned at the thought, before her smile melted into sadness.

She didn't like that she couldn't see Spike. She liked looking at him, she liked talking to him, she even liked fighting with him. He aggravated her to no end most days, but she liked his presence. Him being invisible like this... it made her miss him, even if he was right in front of her.

"Can I hold your hand?" she asked. "So I can know where you are when you're not talking." She put her hand down on the table, palm up. There was a long silence where Buffy held her breath. She wasn't sure if he was considering turning her down, or if she just surprised him.

"Yeah, pet," he said, as Buffy felt his cool hand settling over hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

She closed her hand in his, holding onto it tightly. "How did it feel?" she asked quietly. "To not have a heart." A heavy sigh came from across the table. He had probably been dreading this discussion.

"Didn't feel like anything," he said. "Just felt numb. Couldn't hurt, couldn't love. All that mattered was blood and sex."

Buffy winced. Numb she could relate to. Sometimes she wondered if she came back from the dead without the ability to feel anything at all. The only thing that seemed to interest her anymore lately was... well, Spike. That wasn't just because of sex though. Yeah, she was attracted to him, but she did enjoy his company too. Especially now that she knew he had a heart, she could enjoy him for who he was, and not his kissable, lower lip or razor sharp cheekbones. Or his washboard abs and athletic shoulders. What he could do with his very skilled hands. What she could only imagine he could do with his tongue...

"Can't lie that it wasn't a little bit gratifying though," Spike had continued, snapping Buffy back to the present. "Not just being able to taste real blood again, _your_ blood. Of course that was amazing. But being able to strike fear into the heart of the Slayer. Sometimes seems like anythin's better than your indifference."

"It was my fault the vodnik did that in the first place," Buffy said, looking down at where his invisible hand held hers. "It was all to prove what I already knew but didn't want to admit. That a vampire could have a heart."

"Those things I said, Buffy," he said. "I didn't mean it."

"No, you probably did," she replied. "You were just expelling all the pain that had been building up because of me. Because of how I had been treating you. And you unleashed it on me because you didn't have a heart to hold you back."

"You really believe it now, don't you? That I," he paused, being careful with his words. "Feel."

"I..." Buffy started, before cutting herself off. She was unsure what to really tell him. It felt like she had been able to talk to him about everything except for how she felt about him. But it seemed easier when she couldn't see him. Like this was just her imaginary conversation of what she would say if she didn't have to worry about him putting his foot in his mouth or driving her crazy. Right now, she just felt like she could be honest.

"I'm still a little confused about it," she began again. "I dust vamps every day. It's my purpose, my calling, my reason for existence. I couldn't accept that maybe that purpose I had dedicated my life to could have been _wrong_. That every vamp I had ended could have been redeemed if I gave them a chance. Admitting that you had a heart would be opening the door to that possibility." She paused, swallowed, and looked up to the space where Spike would have been sitting.

"So it was really hard for me to accept it," she continued on bravely. "Your heart was proof that I was wrong. But after yesterday, with what the vodnik said about your special circumstances, and then showing me what a heartless Spike looked like, it became impossible to deny. And... a little easier to swallow knowing that you're special among vampires and I'm not just a murderer."

"Buffy," Spike said, his voice thick with emotion. Buffy felt like she had to cut him off, to get her question out of the way before he could say anything else.

"I have to ask though," she said. "Did you know? About how the heart works for vamps, I mean." She needed all the answers before she could relax into this date. Before she could just be herself with Spike again.

"Well, it's not like I could bloody help it," he said, his voice getting defensive. "I just happened to be raised in stuffy old Victorian England."

Buffy smiled, trying to picture Spike as a human in Victorian England. She wasn't really sure what Victorian dress looked like, so she just imagined him sitting in front of her in a tuxedo. His hair a more natural dirty blonde color. All human and shy and inexperienced. He had been a virgin, and Buffy couldn't help imagining teaching sweet William a thing or two.

"I was a soddin' prat, hung up on love and propriety and all that rot," he continued, bringing Buffy's attention back to what he had been saying.

"No, I mean, did you ever know for sure that you had a heart?" she asked, trying to get her mind back on track.

"Other than a fiery, all-consuming love?" he asked. Buffy nodded in response.

"Never really questioned it," he replied. "Though back when Dru and I raised the Judge he claimed I stunk of humanity. Too full of affection and jealousy, he said. Didn't make much sense at the time. I was a vampire, so course I didn't have any humanity. Just figured my love for Dru shorted out his sensors a bit. But I'm downright humane if we go by your boy vodnik. Puts a damper on my Big Bad routine, don't it?"

"Nah," Buffy said with a smile. "If anything a Big Bad with a heart is more dangerous, because if it gets broken, you'd reach your limit and turn into what you were yesterday." Buffy thought she felt him shake his head.

"Probably just turn into a sobbing mess like when Dru left me," he replied. "When you died I was shattered, yeah. My little dead heart thought it had loved its last. But I still had enough feeling left in me to keep my promises and look after the Bit. Breaking a heart isn't the same as losing it entirely. It'd take a lifetime of pain to do that, I'd wager."

She went quiet again at the mention of her death. The weight of her resurrection still pressed down on her like a heavy stone, and she had been able to tell Spike about it before because he didn't care, not the way her friends cared. But Buffy had been wrong, and he cared just as much. Maybe he just believed she was strong enough to power through, so it seemed like he wasn't worried. Buffy started to second guess whether she should risk telling him how she felt, but this honesty thing was really working for her. She wanted to try to be completely open with Spike, and hope he wouldn't treat her like she was made of glass.

"When I jumped off that tower, I was ready for it," she began slowly. "I was ready to be done. I did my job, saved the world, defeated a god. I earned my rest. I had reached that point that you said all Slayers get to, where they crave death. Death was my gift, my reward. And now that I've been brought back... I think I still crave it."

Buffy felt his hand tighten just barely over hers, but she pressed on.

"And these vodniks or whatever we're fighting don't even want to give me that," she said with a huff. "They just want to steal my soul, corrupting what's left of me until I'm even more of a zombie than I already am. Nothing else is strong enough to take me out..." She looked up to where she could almost swear she saw his eyes. "Except you."

"Buffy," he said in a hoarse voice, bringing his other hand down to cradle hers. "I'm too bloody selfish to let you go again, even if you're in pain."

"I know. I realized something when you were heartless and could have drained me. I don't want this. I don't want to die... not really. I just want to rest. To get my strength back, to get my... _me_ back. So that I can keep on fighting. Because I know there's no life where I'm not fighting."

"You're a bloody valkyrie, Buffy," he said. "You have too much purpose, it's in your blood."

"Maybe," she said with a small smile. "Maybe I just need a day at the spa."

"I could give you a foot massage," he replied casually, taking his other hand away. "I don't have the eucalyptus oils or Enya music but it's a start."

Buffy laughed, finding it surprisingly easy to picture Spike in a white smock and bowed down at her feet.

"What do you do when you aren't out being a vampire?" she asked, before her train of thought took off without her again.

"What do you do when you aren't out being the Slayer?" he countered.

"I'm always the Slayer," she replied. "Even when I'm trying to be normal girl the Slayer life comes tracking me down. I kinda learned to live without the normal."

"Likewise," Spike answered. "Can't bloody well be _normal_ when you've got a demon nesting inside you for the past hundred twenty years or so... Not sure I can even imagine it, but what would you do with your life if you didn't have to be the Slayer?"

Buffy shrugged and looked down at the table. "I was sorta just a kid when I was called. I wasn't really old enough to give a whole lot of serious thought to the rest of my life before the Slayer side took over. I was still harboring fantasies about being an ice skater or a fashion model."

"You went to university," Spike observed. "Must've thought about some sort of major to try to snag a job with."

"Not really," she said, shaking her head. "I had classes I liked... history, poetry, anthropology weirdly enough. Like large scale soap operas. But I never thought about something I could really make a career out of. Although," she paused, knowing she was digging deep with this and wondering if it was smart for her to share it. "I've had a fantasy or two about a life where I was never called to begin with. In those cases I usually have some vague job in PR or as a manager or something."

"Why that?" he asked in surprise. Buffy knew it didn't really fit her. Nothing but Slaying did anymore.

"Just something that deals with people," she replied. "Real human beings, no beasties." Her lips quirked as she revealed the rest of it. "I'd also be married with three kids, and my husband would be a police officer." She didn't mention that the times she had fantasized about a normal life, it was always Angel she had been married to. Even when she had been with Riley the fantasy didn't change.

"You'd wanna marry a cop?" he asked, again not expecting her answer.

"It's a nice thought that someone else in the household has to do the world saving instead of me," she replied. "Besides... the uniform can be pretty hot. Did you ever see the T-1000 in Terminator 2?"

"You mean the soulless killing machine?" he replied, amusement creeping in at the edges of his voice.

"...Yeah?" Buffy said slowly, realizing where he was taking this.

"Had the hots for the Big Bad, did you?" he said smugly. Oh, he was _definitely_ smirking at her.

"Well, what about you?" Buffy asked, jumping away from that little subject as quickly as possible. "What would you have done with your life if you didn't go all undead?"

"Wasn't much in the way of choice back then," he answered. "You had to do what your father did, no matter your station. Had my life run its intended course, I would have taken a wife, spawned lots of brats, and died fat, old, and useless."

Buffy tried to picture him with some random bride on his arm, and she just couldn't do it. The thought of Spike married to someone actually bothered her for reasons she didn't want to admit. She wondered if her mention of a fantasy marriage bothered him at all.

"Well, what did you do for fun back then?" she asked, trying to move past her uncomfortable feeling.

"Read and write mostly," he said. "Not a lot of convenience back then, so lots of time spent tending to duties or waiting around. Left me with a good pen and a scrap of paper as my favorite way to fill that time."

"What did you write about? Journals and stuff?" Buffy asked.

"More content like our riveting entertainment for the evening."

"You wrote poetry?" It was Buffy's turn to be surprised.

"Constantly, and every bit of it rubbish," he said. "I just couldn't help myself."

"Do you write anything still?" she asked.

"Was a long time ago that I had any sort of devotion to it, but," he hesitated for a bit. "Yeah, when the inspiration strikes."

"Can I read some of it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Don't think you'd like the content," he said.

"Is it all blood and death and stuff?" she asked.

"No," he said carefully. "No, my poems are still all about soddin' love."

"Oh," she said quietly. Did that mean he had written poetry about _her_?

"Know you'd rather claw your eyes out than read that sort of dross," he replied. "Not fool enough to believe that accepting feelings as real means you don't still reject them as unwanted."

Buffy felt like this was it, the crossroads where she decided to give Spike a chance or just keep him at a distance forever. She wasn't sure where the first road led, but she had been down the second long enough to know it didn't interest her anymore. It was time to take another route.

"I don't reject your feelings, Spike," she said. "I can't guarantee that I'll know what to do with them, but I don't want to reject them anymore."

Buffy could hear his breath hitch, even though he didn't need to breathe. "Is that right?" he said slowly.

"Yeah, I-" Buffy stopped, gathered her thoughts, and started again. "A vampire who can love is a rare thing. Maybe even precious. And those feelings are worth giving a chance, at least."

"Still the Big Bad, love. Don't ever forget that I'm a monster," he replied.

"I don't think I can. Just as you shouldn't forget that I'm all sorts of messed up and still trying to figure things out since coming back from the dead," she told him. "But knowing your feelings are genuine is... comforting. Probably not what you're looking for but-" she let herself trail off.

"I'll take it."

"Yeah?"

"Just like being with you, Buffy," Spike said. His voice was closer so he must have leaned in. "Know that makes me sound like a complete ponce, but sod it, this evening has been like something from a dream."

"That's the show folks," the barista stepping up to the microphone announced. "Time to settle your tabs and clear outta here."

"Guess that means it's time to wake up," Spike added.

"You wanna go for a walk?" Buffy asked. "I feel like I just want to keep talking. Like you'll disappear for good if you leave now."

"Yeah. Love to, pet," he said, the chair pushing back as he stood up.

"Don't let go of my hand, all right?" she said.

"Wouldn't dare."

* * *

Having gotten the important stuff out of the way, the rest of their conversation as they wandered around town hand in hand was much easier. They talked some shop, about various baddies they had fought, about which poets they liked, and Spike's particular fondness for day time soap operas. They lost track of time almost entirely, and wandered far past Main Street as they chatted.

There was a tiny town square with a fountain, a bench, and some flowers that marked the divide from business to residential that they approached on their stroll. Buffy always wondered why anyone would put a fountain there, since you had to walk so far out of the way of anything interesting to get to it. As a result it was always empty.

"Oh, the fountain is on low again," Buffy noted as they walked up to it. The water flow was turned down low enough that instead of the regular fountain of water pouring down from the top to the middle tiers, it was more like a misty trickle of rain over the entire fountain.

"Wonder if it's broken," Spike said.

"No, I've seen it like this before. Xander said that they usually set it to low right after they clean it," she said, sticking her hand in the water at the base. "It's not much of a fountain like this."

"We could splash some water about, make it a bit more exciting," he replied, sticking his hand in the water and splashing it up at Buffy. She squeaked, and put her hand up to block the water a second too late.

"Oh you are so gonna-" she froze, noticing the water dripping off of his free hand gave it a ghostly shimmer. "I can see your hand," she said in amazement.

The disembodied hand hovered up between them as Spike checked it out. "Huh, look at that," he replied.

"Wanna try something, love?" he asked. Buffy watched as he stepped into the fountain base, leaving two holes in the water as his feet displaced it. "Come on in, the water's fine."

Buffy hesitated for a moment, then let go of Spike's hand to take off her boots. As she stepped into the water with him, he backed into the spray, covering his whole body with a sparkling shimmer as the little drops of water bounced off of him.

"Can you see me?" he asked, brushing the water out of his face.

"Yeah, Spike, you're..." Buffy replied, looking at the shiny surface of his invisible form. "You glisten." She felt compelled to get closer, to touch him, to see if he was real or just the voice in her head she had been talking to all evening. She stepped into the spray towards him, putting her hands on his face. She couldn't tell what his expression was from the shimmer, but she could at least see he was there.

Spike brought his hands up behind her back and tucked the hair that had started plastering to Buffy's face behind her ear. The water in front of her shifted as a smile grew on his face, telling Buffy where his lips were. That was all the prompting she needed to bring her lips up to his in a kiss.

Buffy was gentle at first, as if she was afraid he was just a bubble that would burst from contact. But Spike pulled her closer, encouraging her to deepen the kiss and explore his mouth with her tongue.

God, he was a good kisser. Every time she kissed him, he kissed her back as if he'd never get the chance again. The way he worked his jaw against hers, desperate to find the perfect angle. How he moved his lips around her own, hungry to taste every bit of her. It was like she was being consumed.

Like fire. They were both covered in water, soaking wet, and she was still burning up.

Buffy felt like she couldn't get close enough to him. She pushed him back in an attempt to get closer, until he was pressed against the middle tier of the fountain, making him groan. Buffy figured the fountain pressing into random points of his back was probably pretty uncomfortable.

She pulled him down to the ground, so that she was straddling on top of him in the base of the fountain. The water was only a couple inches deep, but the outline of his form in the water still looked bizarre. It didn't stop her from kissing him wildly.

No matter what position she shifted herself into, Buffy still wasn't close enough. She felt the urge to press against him tightly enough that not a single drop of water could fit between them. But there was only one way to get even closer. Her hand instinctively reached for his belt, making short work of the buckle and jeans until she could feel the hard length of him spring free in her hand.

"Buffy," he moaned into her mouth as she explored him with her fingers.

Buffy opened her eyes and looked at the shimmering form underneath her. It only just occurred to her that he still might not want this, and she was just taking advantage of him again. That she had misread all they had shared tonight and that it didn't change anything.

"Do you want to stop?" she asked, holding her breath.

"God no," he answered, snaking his hands under her skirt and massaging her thighs as his hands crept closer to her burning hot core. "I need you, love. Inside. Can't say no to you anymore." His voice was so husky it drove Buffy a little bit wild.

"Out here?" she asked, leaning down to pepper him with feverish kisses. She could all too easily imagine what he would feel like... inside.

"No one ever comes by here," he replied between kisses. "'Sides, I'm invisible. If someone did happen to show up they'd just think you're lookin' for quarters."

"With my pelvis," she said.

"I could zip up," he offered. "We could find somewhere-"

"No," Buffy interrupted with a sloppy kiss to his neck. "You're right, I can't wait any longer."

Spike growled in response, yanking her panties aside so hard they ripped off. She had apparently pushed him into caveman territory.

Buffy felt a little bit wiggy as she steadied herself over him, feeling like she was about to have sex with a ghost. But in a way, it just made the whole thing less real. As if this were all just another one of her sexy Spike dreams and she didn't have to worry about the consequences. And as she lowered herself down on him, taking the whole length of him inside her, any thoughts of wrongness where blown right out of her head. All she could feel was pure, unfiltered _Spike_.

His hands gripped her hips for dear life as they just sat still for a moment, marveling at the sensation of their union.

"Buffy," he whispered, his lips buried in her chest hovering over him. "Buffy, I..." He trailed off as Buffy shushed him, bringing shaky lips down to his and trying to just breathe. The time for words was over. All that was left was _this_.

Once Buffy got used to the feeling of being so completely filled, she slowly sat up and began to rise and fall on him. Spike sat up with her, not willing to let her be so far away, and began kissing all around her neck and chest.

Every part of Buffy's body burned where she touched him, her nerve endings frying as they moved against each other. She was no blushing virgin, but she couldn't remember sex ever feeling this _intense_ , as if her skin was singing from his touch. She felt so reactive to him, so sensitive to his every movement, that she knew she wouldn't last long.

His hands were everywhere. They were everything. He somehow could read her body like an instruction manual and managed to find the exact spot she needed to be touched before she even knew it herself, turning every regular boring part of her body into an erogenous zone. The small of her back, her ribcage beneath her breasts, her outer thighs. She wasn't sure she could ever wear a bikini again with the way he made every inch of her skin feel naughty.

As she felt herself tiptoeing closer to that line with every thrust, she looked down at Spike, her eyes widening. He was fading back into visibility again, right before her eyes. As he solidified, she got the full visual pleasure of seeing him pinned beneath her, glistening wet, and in complete ecstasy as he ravaged her chest with kisses. He was absolutely stunning to behold.

Buffy pushed him back down on his back in the water, smothering his mouth with hers and sped up the pace. The water surrounding them splashed all around from their frenzy of motion. The climax that came over her tightened her back as taut as a bowstring, forcing her to sit up and grip the fountain for support as she rode wave after wave of pleasure flowing through her. She felt Spike come undone underneath her at the same time, drawing out the intense pulsing running through her whole body. The plaster of the fountain collapsed in her grip, sending it tumbling into the water just as the water pressure in the fountain spurted back to life at full blast.

Nothing since she came back from the dead had made her feel as alive as she did in this moment.

Buffy collapsed onto Spike and laughed, covering her head as the water poured all around them. Spike sat themselves up and shifted them back against the fountain base's outer wall to get them out of the downpour. He looked at one of his newly visible hands while cradling Buffy with the other one.

"When did that happen?" he asked.

"Right before we finished," Buffy said, still catching her breath as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Who knew getting all groiny with you would release the spell?"

"Should give it a try any time there's magic afoot," he replied, leaning his head back against the wall to look at her.

"I should get home," she said, wishing she could hold onto this fantasy for a little bit longer. But he was visible again and reality was going to start sinking back in whether she was ready for it or not. "I have no idea what time it is and Dawn's expecting me."

"I'll walk you," Spike offered.

"You don't have to," she said with a small smile.

"I'm not the type to shag and leave, love," he argued.

Buffy's smile grew wider. "Yeah, ok."

They held hands the whole way back to her house. They had been holding hands all evening, so why stop now? When they reached Buffy's home, she didn't stop at the door to say goodnight. Buffy just walked in with Spike in tow, finding a note on the side table by the door. She picked it up and read it out loud.

"Buffy, I figured you'd be running around town all night trying to track down an invisible vampire, so I got Tara and Willow to take me to the concert I wanted to go to in Baydale. We didn't want to drive two hours when the concert lets out so we're just gonna get a hotel and be back in the morning. Dawn."

Buffy turned her eyes to Spike. His eyebrows were up, asking her the unsaid question. She raced upstairs, giving him his unspoken answer, and he followed quickly behind.

She spun around as soon as she was in her bedroom, and his lips crashed into hers, slamming the door behind him with his foot. Their wet clothes were off in an instant, tossed to a damp pile in the corner as they threw themselves on the bed. Spike's hands were all over her body, finding her ready and willing, and Buffy pulled him inside her almost immediately. They already felt like they had been apart for an eternity just from the short walk back to Buffy's house. Luckily they had all night to keep together.

* * *

 **A splashing water fountain is a bit more optimistic than a crumbling house I hope.**


	6. Double Pound Arena

The sun streaming in through Buffy's windows woke her up again. But there was some familiar smell in her bed that comforted her before she came back to consciousness. It smelled smoky, leathery, metallic, and maybe even a little silky. It reminded her of the inside of a weapons chest. She breathed in dreamily and stretched out an arm, only to find it was draped over a sleeping vampire, his face totally covered in pillows. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, surprised to find Spike still there. She just assumed he would have snuck out before the sun came up.

Buffy put her head back down on the pillow. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about waking up to Spike's naked body sprawled across her bed, but it wasn't disappointment. That made for a nice change of pace. She turned her head the other way to take a peek at her alarm clock. 11:30. Not good.

Buffy sat up, keeping the sheets tucked around her for modesty, and carefully lifted the pillow off of Spike's face. The dark sweep of his lashes resting against his pale face, the soft lips slightly parted in a sigh, and the ridiculous mess of curls his hair had turned in to through their escapades made for one incredibly satisfied picture. It was a pretty striking contrast from the whirlwind of mayhem he usually was. Buffy considered waking him up with a kiss as a thank you for the night of amazing sex, but she didn't want to give him the wrong impression. She didn't regret what happened last night, but it was a fantasy. Today was time to come back to reality, and she wasn't sure it was smart to let last night happen again.

She grabbed him by the shoulder and shook. "Wake up, it's late," she said.

Spike creaked one eye open to look at the bright daylight out side then back at Buffy. "Sun's up," he replied groggily, before giving her an evil smirk and rolling right on top of her. "Let's pick up where we left off," he said, before smothering her with one of his patented all-consuming kisses.

It fried Buffy's brain for a few seconds and she found herself powerless to do anything but kiss him back. So much for not giving the wrong impression. When his kisses trailed down to her neck she managed to cobble some words together for a sentence. "We gotta get up," she said.

"Already am," he replied with a cheeky grin.

"No, I mean," she cut herself off with a gasp as his mouth closed around her breast. She pulled weakly on his hair to try to bring him back up to her face but he just kept going. "Dawn will be home soon if she isn't already. This is really not the kind of morning greeting I want to give her."

Spike groaned in disappointment against her flesh, sending a thrill racing down her spine. He pulled away and leaned back on his elbow. "S'pose it's not a great way to teach the Niblet 'bout the birds and the bees."

"I mean, she _is_ a teenager," Buffy said, hopping out of bed and over to her closet before Spike could get any other ideas. "Pretty sure Mom had the talk with her a couple years ago."

"Nope," he replied, climbing out of bed and over to the corner where his clothes still lay in a damp pile. "Girl's just gonna have to wear a chastity belt for the rest of her days. Hmm, chilly." His clothes didn't dry out because they weren't hung up properly, and his shirt looked like a wrinkled mess as he put it on.

Buffy went to her door fully dressed and poked her head out. "Hello? Guys?" she called. At the lack of response, she walked out and called down the stairs again. "Anybody home?" When she was met with silence, she called back at Spike to come downstairs.

Spike found her in the kitchen, grabbing a bowl out of the cabinet. "God, I'm starving," she said, pulling out a box of cereal.

"Four straight hours of shagging can do that to you," he murmured huskily, coming up behind her and snaking his arms around her waist. Buffy jumped away at his touch and turned around to face him.

"Um, sorry," she said. "I'm just not used to the... casual cuddling. It's been a while since... and well, I died."

Spike was undeterred and moved back in closer to put his hands on her hips. "I'll have to touch you a lot more till you're used to it then," he replied, curling his tongue behind his teeth with a grin.

"Ugh, you're practically preening like a peacock," she said, trying to hide her smile with a fake look of disgust.

"Hard not to preen after a night like that," he said, lowering his voice again and leaning in to nibble at her jawline. "My little peacock is feeling pretty proud of itself this morning."

Buffy closed her eyes and breathed in. His bedroom voice was incredibly effective at clearing her head of all thoughts not Spike related. "Definitely not little," she mumbled to herself.

Spike of course heard it, and pulled back with a confident smirk on his face. "Gonna be strutting around crotch first all day," he said, thrusting towards her in demonstration. "You make me feel like a bloody champion, Buffy."

"Speaking of," Buffy said, pulling away before he could lean in and kiss her again. "I need some breakfast of champions right about now." She moved to the other side of the kitchen island and poured her cereal. Spike slowly trailed his hand across the counter top as he rounded the island, stalking her like a wild animal. He paused when his fingers brushed over a piece of paper sitting on the far edge.

"What's this?" he asked, picking it up to read.

"Job application," Buffy replied between crunches.

"What, slinging burgers?" he scoffed. "You can't be serious."

"I have no skills," Buffy reasoned. "There's not a whole lot else I can do."

"You're the bloody Slayer!" Spike cheered. "Your skills are the only ones that matter."

"Oh, because _that'll_ go well on a resume," she replied. "Several years experience slaying the undead. Adept at weapon improvisation and averting apocalypses."

"If you need money, love, there are better ways to get it," Spike said. "There's this gym an hour out on the interstate that has ladies prize fighting, yeah? It'll pay much better than this. You'll mop the floor with them easy. Even have to pull your punches to make it more of a fight."

"Boxing?" Buffy asked. "I punch to dust, Spike, and I don't even know the rules."

"It's easy, I did it all the time back in the 20s," he said, making his way around the island to her. "Just put your arms up like this," he demonstrated, bringing his fists up to his face. "You'll wanna block your opponents hits, or they'll score points. You can't kick or hit below the belt or anything dirty." He began to dance around her like she was his opponent. "You don't have to worry about controlling the ring at all since you can take the punishment and dish it out." He threw a couple punches at her, stopping his fists before they made contact. "Just make it look good for a round or two before you knock your opponent out. You won't get invited back too often if you can't put on a good show."

Buffy considered his moves thoughtfully. "How much can I make?" she asked.

"Not sure for the ladies," he replied, bringing his fists down. "But a fight should get you enough to buy groceries for the month, if you win. You'll also want to wear a hot little number to get the crowds coming back to see you."

"You sure that's not just so you get to see me in a skimpy outfit?" she asked with a knowing smirk.

"I've seen you in less," he replied, putting his hands on the island around her so she was caged against him.

Buffy looked into his eyes as he leaned in to kiss her, so full of adoration, desire, and contentment. Buffy felt terrified. Not because of Spike, but because she realized the only times she felt alive were when she was in his arms.

The sound of the front door slamming shut made them both fly apart, and Buffy turned back to her cereal bowl. Dawn came into the kitchen shortly afterwords.

"Spike, you're visible again," Dawn said.

"That's right, Niblet," he replied. "Got a right proper punishment last night. You won't see me stepping out without a heart any time soon."

"Why are your clothes all wet?" she asked.

"Oh, I was uh," he looked down at his damp shirt. "Helping Buffy with the plumbing."

"Oh no, don't tell me the basement's flooded again," Dawn groaned.

"No, it was upstairs," Buffy quickly cut in. "The plumbing. Leaky faucet."

"That's a lot of water for a leaky faucet," Dawn said.

"Well you know how these things escalate, Bit," Spike replied with a grin. "Starts out as a small trickle, next thing you know the tension on the pipes is just too much and it explodes."

"OK, there's a blanket on the couch you can borrow so you can get home, Spike," Buffy said, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the door.

"Right then," he said, grabbing the spare blanket and turning to Buffy after she released his arm. "You know where to find me if you need any more help with your... pipes." His eyes dipped to her lips with one last leer, before he ducked out the door under the blanket. Buffy watched him go, realizing too late that she didn't settle any of the details about the prize fighting. She'd just have to track him down again later.

"What happened to Spike's blanket?" Dawn said, coming up behind her.

"What blanket?" Buffy asked, turning to her sister.

"When he came over earlier."

Buffy blanched, realizing that his lack of blanket was a dead giveaway that he stayed the night. "Oh, it got all dirty in the plumbing," she replied casually.

"What happened last night?" Dawn asked. "With the invisible vampire babysitting."

"Spike was just the same as he always is," Buffy replied, turning to make her way up the stairs so she didn't have to talk about it. "Just a lot more see through."

Dawn rolled her eyes and trudged up the stairs after her to her own bedroom.

* * *

Buffy had arranged for Spike to drive her to the prize fight that night, so she found herself sitting in the car for the hour long drive with him while still struggling to figure out her feelings. She knew he was talking to her about something but she had trouble paying attention.

Being with Spike felt good. It was only when she was with him that she felt anything at all, but that still wasn't enough. The little flutters of life he stirred up in her belly were nice, but they were a pale imitation of the fire she used to have. She still felt dead and cold inside, and the little warmth Spike gave her wasn't enough for her to love him. Even after their explosive first night together, Buffy was pretty sure love wasn't even a possibility for her anymore. It was like that part of her never made it back from the grave.

But Buffy wanted to get closer to life. At the very least she wanted to try. And because Spike was the only thing getting her blood flowing lately, she really wanted to keep hanging around him.

Of course, that was the whole problem.

Spike wasn't just a thing to be used anymore, Buffy couldn't allow herself to do that. And knowing that there was real emotion behind his feelings for her, she actually found herself caring about those feelings. Caring that she hurt him, caring about what he thought of her, and caring about how he got those feelings in the first place.

Buffy knew that Spike fell in love with her before she died. She knew his feelings weren't completely love-shaped when he started his crush from hell on her, and that it wasn't until he really stepped up in the resistance against Glory that it grew into something real. But it was still the old her that he fell in love with. Not this hollow, zombie shell she felt like now. Buffy hadn't hidden how empty she was after her resurrection, but she knew she didn't have that strength anymore that he was so attracted to in the first place.

She knew without a doubt that the longer she let Spike get close to her, the sooner he would realize how unsatisfying this new version of Buffy was. So she couldn't keep up this relationship. Not in a way that was so raw and open. She had to push him back to even be around him at all. Just friends, no strings, no sex was the only way to be sure.

Buffy turned her attention back to the vampire in the driver's seat.

"And none of the other day-time tv shows really go all-in on the supernatural thriller stuff like Passions does," he was saying. Was he talking about a soap opera? "Makes me wonder if they've got a beastie in the producers chair or something."

"Spike... I'm not sure we should keep going with the relationship part of this... relationship," Buffy started as she stumbled her way through her words.

"All right, what'd I do now?" Spike asked.

"What? No, I just," she said, trying to figure out how much she could say to him. "You didn't want to be my toy, and I can't feel anything."

"Sure sounded like you felt something last night," he replied silkily, bringing that flutter back again.

"I can't love you," she blurted out.

He was quiet for a moment as he watched the road. "Not mincing words then."

"And I know that 'it's not you, it's me' is a lame excuse," she rushed to cover. "But it's really true this time. I've been hollow inside since I came back."

"You think I don't know you're going through a hard time right now?" he asked. "Christ, Buffy, I'm not blind. I know you're still slowly clawing your way outta that grave. I'm just the dirt clinging on for the ride. Once you reach daylight you'll brush me off and be on your merry way."

"That's not what I mean. I don't think you're dirt," Buffy replied. "I just... I know for sure you have a heart now. And I don't wanna break it."

He shook his head. "S'not about breaking it, love," he said. "Just wanted some acceptance, is all. You're in the dark right now. I'm a creature of darkness so here we mingle. But I'll never be able to come into the light, so once you get past this you'll leave me behind."

"That's not me using you?" she asked, hating how small her voice sounded.

"I'm in love with you, Buffy," he said, the conviction in his voice making the words come out strong and clear. "Even if you can't love me back- Even if there's nothing I can do to make you feel happy, I hope that I can at least make you feel _different_. That I can make you feel anything at all. No one can take on your inner demons but you." He paused as he took the exit off the highway. "But I can at least keep you company in hell."

Buffy almost thought she felt something tugging at her heartstrings at that. Yeah, Spike made her feel different all right. Not normal, and not like regular old Buffy, but every time he said something that just _clicked_ she felt a little less like a zombie. She wished she could offer him _something_ for that.

"I'm not hiding with you at least," she replied. "I just don't think we should continue with the sexcapades."

"Had a feeling you were gonna cut me off," Spike said. "Was hopin' it was gonna last more than just a night though." They pulled into the parking lot of the gym, pulling around to the back side of the building before Spike turned off the engine. "At least for one glorious moment I got to shag the sunshine," he added.

"And that's enough for you?" Buffy asked. She was pretty sure it wasn't and he was just being nice.

"Course not," he said without hesitation. "I'd build a little cabin and move in right between your legs if you let me. But you can just tell me to bugger off and we'll go right back to the lovely mix of sexual tension we've always had."

Buffy wanted to argue that they didn't _always_ have sexual tension, but she wasn't confident enough that he wouldn't be able to tell her otherwise. Besides, if she had to worry about the kind of sexual tension they had _now_? When just the slightest touch from him could bring her body back to life? She suddenly wasn't sure she had really thought through this whole keeping her distance plan.

Spike had gotten out of the car while Buffy lost herself in thought, and she scrambled to follow him out before she made herself look like a space cadet. They walked up to the back door of the gym, the name of the building clearly painted on the side.

"Double Pound Arena?" Buffy asked. "Are you sure this is a gym?" she said, turning to Spike.

"Yeah, thought it was something else when I fist came here," he said, looking at the sign. Buffy looked back at him, sneaking a little bit of judgment into her raised eyebrows. Or maybe a lot of judgment.

"What?" Spike asked. "I was investigating the area. 'Sides, place has got some real good fights goin' on in here." He opened the door for her and Buffy stepped in.

"Right, looks like the ladies locker room is over there," he said, nodding his head towards the door down the hall. "'M gonna go have a chat with the manager, make sure everything's all squared away from my phone call earlier. Meet you back here in five."

"Kay," Buffy replied, stomping down the desire to kiss him goodbye. She wasn't sure why she felt that urge when they had only shared one night together. It wasn't like he was her boyfriend or anything. She had made sure of _that_ with their conversation in the car. Then why did she feel like him walking away, even if it was just for a few minutes, was sucking the life out of her?

Buffy shook it off, and made her way to the locker room. There were only a few other ladies in there, mostly in their exercise gear or stepping out of the shower. It didn't look like any of them were going to be her opponent. She found a quiet corner and started dressing in her fight clothes.

She had picked out whatever clothes she had with the most glam rock flair she could find: a torn up top with lots of slashes in it, leather studded booty shorts, thigh high stockings, and a low cut sports bra, all black and silver. Buffy never paired any of this stuff together thinking the combination might be too skanky, but trying it on made her look like a wrestling diva so she rolled with it. She also got a little bit of inspiration from Spike's rocker style vibe, since the guy never seemed to be far from her mind lately.

Once she was dressed she pulled back her double braids into a bun, securing them with bobby pins. She thought she looked cuter with them down but going into a fight with a couple of long ropes attached to your head was just asking for trouble. She checked herself out in the mirror, before smearing some red lipstick on to complete the look.

She felt nervous. Not because she didn't think she could fight, but because it would have to be giving a performance. She was about to put on display a part of her life she had practiced so hard at keeping hidden. Showing off that she could actually fight, while also holding back just how _well_ , was going to be a tricky balancing act. Giving one last nod to her reflection, Buffy stuffed her duffel bag in one of the lockers and made her way back out into the hallway.

When she found Spike waiting for her by the door, his jaw had dropped, and he stared at her like a teenage boy seeing a girl in a bikini for the first time. She felt her cheeks heat up a little bit, so she waited for him to say something first. Instead he just kept staring.

"Spike?" Buffy asked.

"Yeeeaaah?" he replied slowly. It was like his brain had turned to molasses. Whatever that means.

"Are you OK?" she asked.

Her question seemed to break him out of his trance and he looked back up at her face. With a defeated smile he leaned his shoulder against the wall and ran his fingertips lightly down her arm. "You picked a hell of a time to tell me I can't touch you, kitten," he said.

Buffy didn't know what she was thinking either.

But there was no point in second guessing herself now, she had a fight to get to. "Ready?" she asked.

"S'my line," he replied, handing her the boxing gloves and helping her to put them on. Spike led Buffy down the hall towards the arena with his hand on her shoulder, helping to steady her nerves. When they opened the doors, a handler stopped them and told them to wait for the cue. An emcee in a cheap suit was in the ring with a microphone talking about how you can tell the measure of a person by the way they boxed.

Buffy took the chance to look around the arena, if you could call it that. It was a pretty small building, with just a couple sets of bleachers on the sides of the ring. It looked like it might have been an old warehouse that got converted at some point. The place did seem to have a full house for the fight, for whatever that was worth, but Buffy had her doubts this place could provide a steady paycheck.

Before she knew it, a spotlight was shining on her, and the emcee was calling her to the ring, announcing her arrival as Bombshell Buffy as a blast of rock music played. The handler at the door shoved her forward, and Buffy began to walk towards the ring in a daze, with Spike right behind her. "Did you give them that name?" she asked.

"They like the campy names around here," he said from behind her.

She climbed up and into the ring, bouncing on her heels awkwardly while Spike waited behind the ropes in her corner. The emcee announced her opponent as Tenacious Trixie, just before she entered into the arena. She looked to be at least a foot taller than Buffy, wearing a sparkly blue spandex top that showed off her muscles, and had her brown hair pulled up into a topknot.

Trixie put her gloves up in the air when she climbed into the ring, and the crowd went wild. She was clearly the favorite to win. The emcee beckoned both women to the middle of the ring to get the fight started, apparently serving as the referee too. "OK, ladies, you know the rules," he told them with the microphone out of the way. Buffy nodded absently, though what Spike had taught her was rapidly draining out of her head. "You got four rounds of two minutes each. Make it count." Trixie nodded and put her glove out, clearly expecting Buffy to do the same. Buffy slowly mirrored her action, when Trixie bumped her glove against hers and bounded off to tell something funny to her trainer. She was probably laughing about Buffy. Bitch.

Buffy marched back to her corner, and she must have looked like a scared deer because Spike climbed up onto the ropes and put his hands on her shoulders. "Hey, don't worry about it, baby. All you gotta do is make it last a couple rounds." He turned her back around to face her competition. "She's nothing compared to you. Hasn't taken down a hellgod with her righteous fury. Never pulled the heart out of a frankenstein creation with her bare hands. This'll be the easiest money you've ever earned." The bell dinged to punctuate Spike's little pep talk. He patted her on the back and pushed her out into the ring. "Knock 'em dead."

Trixie was already shuffling towards her, her gloves up in front of her face in a practiced pose. She jabbed at Buffy a couple times, forcing her to dodge. Then she threw one hit straight at Buffy's nose, actually landing the blow. "Hey, ow!" Buffy cried, instinctively throwing a punch back at her temple. Trixie spun around and fell to the floor, knocked out cold. "Oops," Buffy muttered.

The crowd went silent as the emcee ran up and started counting. Cheers started rising up as it became clear to audience that Buffy had landed a knockout punch on her first swing. When the emcee had finished his count, he grabbed Buffy's hand and held it up, bringing up the microphone and announcing Bombshell Buffy as the winner. Buffy cringed and gave a sheepish wave to the audience as they started chanting her name.

Buffy made her way back to her corner where Spike was waiting for her. "Didn't mean to get you _that_ fired up, love," he said as she approached.

"Yeah, I think I goofed," she said, rubbing the back of her head as well as the boxing glove would allow.

"Audience seemed to love it, anyway. Might be able to talk the manager into setting you up with another fight next week," he replied. Buffy climbed down from the ring and Spike put his hand in the small of her back to lead her back to the locker rooms. When they got to the arena doors, the handler stopped them.

"Pretty impressive arm you got there, sweetheart," he said. "Wanna make an extra bit of dough on the side? We got some tougher bouts goin' on downstairs for fighters that can handle it."

"What, right now?" Buffy asked, turning to Spike. He shrugged and nodded, leaving it up to her. "Sure, I guess," she said, turning back to the handler.

"All right, then. Follow me," he replied. He led them down the hall to the stairwell, zero indication whatsoever that there was another arena, much less more prize fighting, happening in the basement. Buffy started to wonder if she made the right call here.

Once they had made the trek down a long sub level hallway, the handler opened the door to reveal another arena, the cheesy rock music already at full volume as she walked through the door. The lights were on the ring, this one with a chain link fence surrounding it on all four sides. The rest of the arena was totally dark, so Buffy couldn't really make out the space of the room. There was a gate with a padlock on it that would let them into the ring. While the handler fished in his pocket for the key, Buffy turned back towards Spike.

"I'm not so sure this was a good idea," Buffy shouted over the music.

"Probably not on the up an' up," he replied in her ear, eyes on the ring. "Can smell blood on the mat. Must be using banned rules or something. But even if they throw the burliest bloke they have at you, you'd still be able to take 'em out."

"Guess I'll find out," Buffy said, turning back around and walking through the gate once the handler had gotten it open. The emcee was announcing the arrival of Bombshell Buffy over a speaker system, so she was totally alone in the ring as they locked the gate behind her.

"This padlock's nothin'," Spike said from behind her. "Just call my name and I'll have your back." She nodded once, spotting a dark figure approaching the ring from the other side. The emcee was building up his arrival, talking about how gnarly this guy was. When he finally revealed his name to be Fighting Fred, the guy leapt over the fence and landed on the ring with a heavy thud. Only he wasn't a guy... he was a Fyarl demon.

Buffy took a step back in surprise, and the audience laughed at her reaction, before cheering. She was pretty sure she could hear demon voices coming from the crowd.

"So it's that kind of gym, huh," she said. Trying to pull her boxing gloves off. Spike reached through the fence and started helping her remove them.

"Failed to mention the demon fighting ring in the brochure," he replied, keeping an eye on the demon slowly lumbering toward her. "Need any help?"

"Nah, I can handle this guy," she said, throwing the gloves to the floor and climbing up the fence to launch herself at the demon with a high attack, kicking him across the face.

He stumbled back, stunned by the amount of force in her kick. He growled at her, before rushing towards her. He was faster than he looked. Buffy actually had to use some real skill to try to evade him. It didn't help that she wasn't given any weapons, much less her trusty stake.

She threw punch after kick at the demon, stunning him each time. The crowd was going crazy for it. It sounded like they weren't used to any sort of real fight.

In the end, the beastie looked scarier than he actually was, and Buffy was able to flip herself onto his shoulders and snap his neck. The crowd let up a wild cheer, just as the house lights went on. The audience was much bigger than the arena upstairs, and made up entirely of demons and vampires. There's no way she would be able to take them all on.

The handler appeared in the ring next to her with a microphone, his vampire face now on display as he bent down to inspect the demon on the mat. "Geez lady, did you have to kill him?" he asked.

"That depends," she replied. "You ever let humans get killed in the ring?"

His guilty stare as he stood up made up for his lack of an answer. He lifted Buffy's hand and declared her the winner, the crowd stomping on the bleachers in response. The handler turned back to her after he lowered the microphone.

"The crowd loves you kid, but you clearly aren't human," he said. "What are you?"

 _Not a human, I'm a zombie_ , Buffy thought, though that wouldn't be a very good answer. She couldn't exactly tell him she was the Slayer with all the vamps around either.

"I'm, uh, a vengeance demon," she replied. She couldn't remember any of the demon names Giles had made her study, but she had Anya as a daily reminder of that type at least.

"Hey now, you're not here to take some vengeance out on this gym are you?" he asked, putting his hands up. "Everyone who comes in to this place does so of their own free will."

"You didn't exactly tell me what was really going on when I made my way down here though," Buffy countered. "I oughta curse the lot of you."

"Hold on, sister. Hold on," he said, getting more panicky by the second. "I'm sure we can work out some sort of a deal."

"No more killing humans," Buffy replied. "Or I'll dust you myself. And I want regular matches for me."

"You wanna keep fighting?" the handler asked, confused. "Why's a vengeance demon need money?"

"Well, my boyfriend's a bum," she answered, thinking fast. "And nobody's made any wishes against him so I'm stuck with his gambling debts."

"Sounds like you need a better boyfriend, lady." He said. "See you next week then. Talk to the manager upstairs to get paid. I'll ring him to let him know the deal."

A goofy smile burst onto Buffy's face as she turned around and made her way out of the ring. Spike was waiting for her with a smirk.

"Good thing I'm not your boyfriend," he said. "Or I'd think you just called me a bum."

"Good thing," Buffy replied, as they walked out to the sounds of wild cheers.

It didn't take long for them to collect Buffy's winnings, and everyone seemed eager to keep her happy after her little demonstration downstairs. Before long, Buffy and Spike were settling back in his car, while Buffy was counting the stack of cash in her hand.

"This is _way_ more than a month of groceries," she said, giddy with satisfaction. "This solves... _so much_ , Spike! I don't know how to thank you enough." He let out a short bark of laughter as she tucked the money away into her duffel bag.

"Knew you could do it, pet," Spike replied. "Just needed-" His sentence was cut short when Buffy flung herself at him and smothered his lips with her own. She felt high off her wins, delighted with her earnings, and uncaring about whatever reasons she had made up for herself to stay away from Spike. She _wanted_ him, and right now, that was enough for her.

She tugged at him, urging him to scoot closer to the center of the bench seat so he wasn't nestled behind the steering wheel. Once he was in a better position, she climbed on top of him and straddled his hips, pulling her shirt off in the process.

"Buffy," Spike groaned out between kisses as his hand slid up her back. "Thought you wanted to put the breaks on this whole physical thing, love. Gettin' some mixed signals here-" He practically choked on his words when Buffy's hand snuck down into his pants and gripped him in a dominating hold.

"You reading me loud and clear?" she asked huskily.

"Hell yeah," he replied, his hips bucking involuntarily against her hand.

He unbuckled his belt and undid his pants to give Buffy better access, then unfastened Buffy's shorts. He couldn't pull them down because of the way Buffy was straddling his hips.

"Need to get these shorts off, baby," he murmured into her mouth.

Buffy pulled Spike's duster and shirt off first, then contorted herself into an impossible position to pull her legs out of her shorts and panties while still kissing him, making him somehow go even more rigid in Buffy's hand. She could have sworn she was stroking steel. The instant she was free of her clothes she sank down on him, riding the rush from winning into this victory lap.

She rode him hard, not holding back any of her Slayer strength, and Spike met her with every thrust. His hips crashed up against hers, encouraging her and egging her on with fervent moans and sensual caresses. She had never just let herself go like this, just given herself away to full on screwing.

It was _amazing_.

She clawed at him, leaving trails of scratch marks on his skin. She bit down on his shoulders and collar bone. She gave herself over to the primal strength she had buried inside her, let it out to tango with Spike's own collared demon.

Any thoughts of emptiness or wrongness were long gone. She wasn't a zombie, she wasn't dead. She felt alive, like a wild animal acting on her instincts. And those instincts told her to take Spike however she wanted him, as hard and as deep and as fast as she could. Luckily for her, his natural instincts were to give. _Ecstatically_.

His hand reached down between them to rub his thumb on Buffy's most sensitive spot, pressing the loud button and putting her into overdrive. She cried out, throwing her head back in ecstasy before flinging herself forward and biting down hard on his neck. He nearly bucked her off of him, and they both climaxed together in a waterfall of cascading release.

She collapsed against him, breathing hard with her face still buried in his neck, leaving little kisses on the vicious bite mark she had left there.

"Hope you didn't mind a little post-fight celebration," she said between breaths.

"If that's how you celebrate, love, then I need to throw you a party for two more often."

* * *

 **No more fast food, it's not healthy. :P**


	7. Living Things

Buffy took a deep breath, coming up for air when she finally came back down off her high. Somehow she had ended up naked underneath the rug in the basement of Spike's crypt. Oh, and Spike was lying underneath the rug beside her in post-coital bliss. This... wasn't what she had come here to do.

When Buffy had made her way through the cemetery towards Spike's crypt it was to end this whole affair, for real this time. After she was exhilarated from her win from the prize fight, she used Spike as a tool for celebration by sleeping with him. Yeah, he was a willing dance partner, but she felt awful about it. Buffy knew how Spike felt about her, and she knew she didn't feel the same way.

But when she reached the door of his crypt, she just stood there, frozen to the spot. She was supposed to tell him this was over, that this should stop. Only... she really didn't want it to. Spike was the only part of her life that she liked since coming back from the dead. She definitely didn't like being by herself. Whenever she was alone with her thoughts, she was just drowning in disappointment.

Buffy needed to have a conversation with Spike. A _real_ one. He deserved that much from her at least. But she could feel a crazy jonesing for him growing even then. The second she was alone with him again, she wouldn't be able to fight it. She just felt too drawn to him lately to resist, especially when it was one of the only things she could feel at all.

She felt tears coming to her eyes for no reason again as she stood cemented to the spot outside his door. Why was she even crying? She didn't have feelings for Spike, so why did the thought of ending their little fling make her tear up? Maybe it was because Buffy knew there was no way out of this mess without hurting Spike in the process. Either she broke it off, which would hurt him, or she kept using him, which would hurt him.

When his crypt door swung open, revealing Spike standing there barefoot with his button down shirt hanging open and his hair mussed, Buffy was done.

There were things she planned to say. "I'm not OK," was the gist of it. But she had other things she had wanted to tell him too. Stuff like, "I'm not able to give you what you want. What you really deserve." Or maybe how, "I've only just recently realized that you're this rare beautiful creature. A vampire who can love. A man with a heart, even without a soul." But she especially needed to tell him, "You need to be with someone who can return that love, because it's too precious to waste on me."

But Buffy couldn't bring herself to say any of this. There was just too much emptiness inside her, and now it was taking her words and swallowing them up into the black ocean just beneath the surface. She had no way left to communicate, so she just launched herself at Spike instead, wrapping her legs around his waist and crashing her lips to his. She went at him like an animal unleashed, silencing that little voice echoing against the emptiness inside her until all her senses were consumed with Spike.

Buffy hadn't wanted to lose this, even if Spike deserved better than her. She almost couldn't believe that she ever thought he was beneath her. She was the one who didn't deserve _him_. She hated herself for not being able to give him more. But she knew she couldn't love him. She couldn't. Not when she hated this husk of a person she had been brought back as so much. If she let go of Spike as her life raft, she'd drown in all this emptiness. She knew she was being selfish. She couldn't love him, but she couldn't let him go either. Maybe she could at least be an unselfish lover.

So Buffy rode him every which way from Sunday. Whatever that means. She couldn't call it lovemaking. Banging, slamming, shagging, maybe... but lovemaking was too gentle a word, and it was anything but. There was too much scratching, biting, and bruising for it to be anything more than raw physical pleasure. They screwed on every surface of his crypt until they had landed under the rug, never quite making it to the bed.

Buffy ran her hand through her hair, totally overwhelmed by the release Spike was able to give her. "Why is it every time we sleep together it's the most intense sex I've ever had?" she asked, still breathing heavily.

"Maybe you just love tasting forbidden fruit," Spike replied, crawling up beside her so that they were side by side. "You did say you were going to swear off me remember?"

"You didn't seem to mind," Buffy said quietly, trying to swallow down the taste of guilt in her mouth.

"Can't hold back with you anymore," he said, matching her quiet tone. "You've got me all twisted up inside so I don't know which way is up anymore."

"I'm kind of directionless myself at the moment," she said, shyly raising her eyelashes up at him.

"Just seems like maybe talking would-" he stopped, shook his head. "Do you even like me, Buffy? Not just what I do to you."

"I do," she answered easily. "I like you a lot. I just- I'm not really... Words and me together-" She stopped and sighed, knowing she wasn't going to be able to talk about the real issue. "Can you maybe just be there for me?" she asked. "I don't mean like as a toy so I can use you. Just... as a friend."

"A boy kind of friend," Spike added.

"There would be those kind of benefits included," Buffy suggested.

"Are these the fun, sexy kind of benefits I hear so much about?" Spike asked.

"I don't think I can resist the sexy kind at this point."

"I'd be a fool to turn you down," he said, rolling on his side to prop himself up on his elbow. "But your rule of no sex unless you change your mind leaves me waiting by the door with a box of Wheatabix hoping you're in the mood. Would be nice if this was a two way street."

"I..." Buffy thought about it for a second, considering the idea of them just being a couple for a little bit, even if she wasn't ready for any sort of deeper commitment. The thought of Spike getting to initiate the sexy-times actually made her skin heat up again, and it had to be better than the situation they had now. Buffy already had Spike on the hook, but she couldn't let him go. Maybe boyfriend Spike wouldn't be so bad. "Yeah, OK. We might need to work on some ground rules, but I think we can officially consider this a thing."

"Ground rules, huh," Spike said, bringing his voice down into that sultry tone where Buffy just knew she was in trouble. "So if I get the urge to kiss you," he said, trailing his fingers down her bare arm as he leaned in. The kiss he gave her was incredibly soft, just letting his lips drift lazily over hers. "That a bit of alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Buffy replied huskily. It felt like he had stolen her breath away with that kiss and she was trying really hard not to gasp for air. "That's alright. As long as we can still be discreet."

"I can be your dirty little secret," he said, leaning back on his hand again as he pulled away.

"Not little," she replied automatically. He let out a low chuckle as his hand slipped out of sight under the rug.

"And if I want to touch you," he continued, his fingers sliding slowly up her inner thigh with a perfectly innocent look on his face. Perfectly innocent for Spike, at least. "I've gotta do it under cover." His fingers began to explore her folds, and a devious smirk grew on his face when he realized she was definitely ready for him.

"Y-yeah," Buffy stammered as his fingers stroked her with the perfect pressure. "And I still might say no, no matter how bad you want it." Spike removed his hand and rolled on top of her, both of them still underneath the rug.

"Stop me then. Anytime you feel like," he said quietly, pushing the length of him inside her incredibly slowly. "S'no fun if only one person is enjoying it." Buffy gasped as he entered her inch by inch.

"That's right," she breathed, closing her eyes as he began to lazily move in and out of her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, wanting to surround him every which way. "I can't have you jumping me whenever I'm on the job. Slaying comes first." How was he not spent? How was _she_ not for that matter? More importantly, how did she already feel this close to climax when they were just getting started?

"Might be hard," he grunted, giving one hard thrust before picking up the pace. "Seeing you serving up a beating like a bloody angel of death. Nothin' sexier. What am I supposed to do in the face of such violent beauty?"

"Come back later."

"I'll come whenever you want me to."

"I don't know if I can fit you in..." Buffy almost squealed when he slowed and pushed in as deep as he could go. "...my busy schedule."

"Don't wanna waste your time," he said, speeding up to a frenzied pace. "I can be brief."

Buffy squeezed her eyes tightly and scratched her nails down his back. He was hitting all the right spots at just the right speed. "I think I'm ready right now," she gasped out, digging her heels into the small of his back.

"You sure about that?" he asked, bringing his lips down to suck on her neck. "Seems like you've been getting pretty busy lately."

"Come now," she demanded, somehow finding an authoritarian voice through her haze of pleasure.

He groaned against her neck, her order sending him over the edge as he pushed in deep and spasmed inside her. The sensation sent her right after him, her climax coming on so strong as she cried out that her face went numb.

They collapsed together on the floor, breathing heavily. Buffy rolled to the side to get Spike to stop crushing her. He gave her a satisfied grin, and looked like he was about to say something when something shiny under the bed caught Buffy's eye.

"Are those handcuffs?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Yeah, pet. Fancy a go for round three?" he asked, leering at her.

"Are you crazy? I don't even know how we managed a round two!" Buffy said. "Especially since the first round was more like twelve."

Spike leaned over and kissed her shoulder. "Never stop wanting _you_ , Buffy," he said against her skin, glancing up at her with a look that could melt steel. Buffy's breath hitched before she remembered her life outside of Spike's bedroom.

"I'm actually supposed to meet my friends at the Bronze pretty soon, I should probably go get ready," she said. His eyes fell from her face and he leaned back, resting his head in his hand.

"So you're the type to shag and leave then," he said quietly.

"No..." she argued weakly. "I just- You wanna meet me there? Socializing together in public is the first step to making this whole boyfriend thing official before I figure a way to break it to my friends."

"Boyfriend, huh," he said with a small smile.

"That is the term they're using for it these days," she said, smiling back. She didn't know how he could make her feel shy after the kind of sex they just had. "So see you there?" she asked.

Spike laced his fingers in her hand, before bringing up their entwined fists and kissing her knuckles. "It's a date," he replied.

* * *

Buffy sat with Dawn and Willow in a booth while Tara joined Xander and Anya on the dance floor. Buffy's attention drifted in and out of the conversation since she kept scanning the crowd for a Spike.

"But I guess blood money is better than no money," Dawn was saying. "Or is it just prize money? Is it blood money if blood was spilled or only if like, you get it by taking someone's life?"

"I think it just counts as blood money if you kill someone for it," Willow answered. "But, uh, I feel like you might have skipped over some of the minor details here. Like... what kind of fight it was, or how it played out, or how it earned Buffy money in the first place."

"Remind me why I let you come clubbing with us again?" Buffy asked Dawn.

"Because you trust me as a well-rounded adult capable of making good decisions on her own?" she asked cheerfully.

"No... that's definitely not it," Buffy mumbled.

"Because her friend Janice was out of town and we didn't want to leave her home alone," Willow answered hastily. "Fight. Details. Spill."

"Spike took her to some boxing tournament and she won a ton of money," Dawn answered. "It's like a regular source of income now right?" she asked, turning to Buffy.

"Sort of," Buffy replied. "The fights aren't on a regular schedule but when they happen I'll get paid. So that's nice, I guess."

"Are they fights with... people?" Willow asked.

"Sometimes," Buffy said.

"Fights with monsters?" Willow continued.

"It pays better," Buffy replied.

"Yeah, but Buffy," Willow began, her eyebrows drawing together. "Is that safe? Or normal? Sounds kinda... thrill seak-y."

"I'm the Slayer, Willow," Buffy said flatly. "My life has never been safe or normal. Heck, I've died twice because of it. I might as well accept that kicking beastie booty is what I'm good at and make some money off of it."

Willow gave her that look that made her want to be anywhere but here. The one that said that Buffy changed when she died, got more morbid. That she wasn't fun Buffy anymore and the person who came back in her place wasn't normal.

It made Buffy sick to her stomach.

Luckily, at just that moment, Buffy thought she saw a flash of platinum blonde hair somewhere in the crowd, turning the nausea in her gut into butterflies instead.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab a drink," Buffy said, scooting out of the booth. "I'll meet you guys on the dance floor in a bit." Buffy dove into the crowd of people, making her way across the club.

When she reached the spot where she thought that she had seen him, Spike was nowhere to be found. She looked around, trying to see through the mass of bodies where he had gone. Was that a black leather duster over there? She wasn't sure, so she headed in that direction anyway. But the stupid vamp kept vanishing like a ghost. A ghost vamp.

Buffy had the strangest flashback to her high school years, when she was weaker and more vulnerable. Back then, it wouldn't be unusual for a lone vampire to be weaving in an out of people to scope out the Slayer in a busy club. He could be watching her right now.

Or maybe her imagination turned her wanting to see him so badly into a trick of the eye.

The first thought was a lot more thrilling, so Buffy climbed up the staircase to the second level of the club to see if she could spot Spike with a higher vantage point.

She leaned over the balcony and looked down. No black leather duster in sight. She sighed in disappointment and crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping numbly over the sea of people. There was so much color down there, but the only one she really wanted to see was black. Buffy spotted her friends all dancing together in the middle of the dance floor. She was struck by the feeling of how much she really _didn't_ want to join them, and preferred to just stay separate from them.

But really, even when she was around them she was separate from them. She was a separated person, broken in half, like she had a canyon running right down the middle of her body. How could she possibly be a part of that world of happy smiling faces? She would just be pretending to be human. Just be pretending that they weren't the reason she sacrificed herself in the first place. That they weren't the people who brought her back incomplete. They couldn't be a part of her life anymore because she had no life to share. All this was just... imitation.

What a gloomy existence she was rewarded with. Couldn't feel love, couldn't feel joy. All she was left with was shame. Shame that she couldn't talk to her friends the way they wanted her to. Shame that they were the reason she shut them out in the first place. Shame that they would find out how hollow she was.

Maybe this was why Slayers weren't allowed to have friends and family. Not because they were a liability, or because they could be used against her, or even because she was supposed to face her duty alone.

Maybe it was because it was inevitable that they would turn into a burden. Become so dependent on her that they couldn't even allow her to die when she had earned her rest.

Maybe all the long lived slayers had found out the hard way that friends that were once a lifeline to the real world would eventually become a noose around her neck. And they instated that rule after they had to cut all ties.

Buffy released a shaky sigh, feeling herself sinking deeper into that black water. She didn't know how to swim, and even Spike could only keep her afloat for so long.

"Should be careful when you hide yourself away alone in dark corners, sweetheart," said the familiar voice behind her. "Never know when an unsavory type is gonna sneak up and take advantage." Spike put his arms on the railing, surrounding her and caging her in, before planting a slow, sensual kiss on the back of her exposed neck.

"Have you ever wanted to bite me?" she asked quietly. "Other than when you didn't have a heart, I mean. But after you didn't want to kill me anymore." Spike moved away from her neck reflexively at her question.

"It's like buggery, love," he replied. "Can't help but to wonder about it from time to time but I'm sure as hell not about to ask you."

"Is that-"

"Look, don't worry about it, all right?" her interrupted. "S'like the handcuffs, I'll do whatever pops into that little head of yours, and that's damn good enough for me."

"Why?" she asked, still looking down at the sea of people. "Why am I enough for you?"

"Why?" he repeated incredulously. "Because you're the bloody sunshine, love. You make my heart full enough to beat again."

Buffy choked down an incredulous laugh and shook her head slowly. "I'm not the sunshine anymore," she said, feeling very much like a dark cloud instead. "Why do you love me?"

Spike went very still at her question, the kind of stillness only someone who didn't breathe was capable of.

"You mean apart from being an amazing valkyrie of death?" he asked casually.

"You've fought other slayers before. _Killed_ other slayers," Buffy said, hating the trembling in her voice. "Why am I any different? What difference would it make if I just ceased to exist when another Slayer could take my place?" A tear she didn't even know she was holding back escaped from the corner of her eye and fell down into the crowd below.

Spike was quiet. Buffy figured he didn't have an answer. That there was no way to explain away this sensation of worthlessness. That even Spike's love wasn't enough to lift her up from the bottom of the riverbed she was drowning in.

When he spoke, his voice was like honey, and he dragged the backs of his fingers down her bare arm with a tenderness she never expected from him.

" _With crashing waves of emerald and gold  
Unyielding fury and boundless strength  
How glorious her violent beauty is to behold  
Such temptation to draw within arms length_

Her endless stream of determination unceasing  
Driving her urge to right each wrong  
My struggle against this love increasing  
Yet impossible to deny such melodious heart-song

 _Her passion burns hot, her fury burns cold  
More tenacious than any warrior before her  
I'd worship her body if I could be so bold  
Drown her in ecstasy till she sings with pleasure_

Such a beautiful vessel for a resplendent soul  
Were I allowed to love both, I'd be made whole

"

Buffy released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She wiped the tears that had gotten away off her face and turned her head. "Who wrote that?" she asked.

"William Pratt, 2001," Spike answered.

"William..." she muttered, recognition dawning on her. She turned around to face him fully. "You? You wrote that about me?"

"Told you I always write about love," a sad smile playing on his lips as his hands moved to rest on her hips. Buffy was amazed to see how embarrassed he looked.

"I'm not that person anymore," she warned him, shaking her head. "I'm not the girl you fell in love with. I'm not human. I'm not _right_. I'm not-"

"You _are_ ," Spike insisted, cutting her off. "You're Buffy. Whatever you're going through, whether you're torn apart, hollowed out, beaten up... you'll always be _Buffy_. And it's that- That indescribable essence of Buffy that I love. Not just the Slayer. Not your morbid twist on valley girl sense of humor. Not even your delectable, shaggable body. It's just you. _All_ of you."

Buffy felt a lightness settle over her at his words, like she was floating a little bit closer to the surface of that dark water. But she still felt driven to fight him, to prove him wrong. Or to make him prove _her_ wrong.

"People change Spike," she said. "You know you're not the same person when you came back from the dead. I'm not either."

"Still got plenty of William the Bloody Pratt buried deep down," he countered. "S'why I can't lay off the rubbish poetry. And I _know_ that you feel different. You feel off or that you came back wrong. But you're like a bleedin' chocolate sunday, love. Even if you take away the sprinkles you're still the most amazing thing ever."

"I'm empty inside," Buffy argued, prodding him for an answer she knew he didn't have. "A part of me is missing."

"Then we'll fill you up," he replied.

"With what?"

"Food. Sex. Alcohol," he listed. "Whatever you need to get your blood pumpin' just let me know and I'll fetch it for you."

Buffy laughed. She felt like she hadn't laughed in a long time. Spike didn't have all the answers. She knew that. But he did a great job of making her feel... different. "You're such a hedonist," she said, snaking her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the mouth. Spike's arms wrapped all the way around her, pulling her body tightly against his so there wasn't an inch of space between them.

"Man, when the others told me a vampire with a heart had fallen in love with the Slayer, I thought it was unreal," said the voice from behind them. "But this is totally righteous, I can really feel he love." Spike turned around to face the newest vodnik while Buffy peeked around him.

"Oh sod it all, how many of you wankers are there?" Spike asked irately.

"We're the Trio, brother. Inseparable," he replied. "And I'm the Joiner."

Buffy stepped out from behind Spike and inspected this new vodnik. He couldn't look more like a hippie Halloween costume if he tried. He was decked out in a tie-died t-shirt, ratty jeans, fringe leather vest, long hair and goatee, and even a pair of little purple John Lennon glasses.

"Why do I get the feeling you aren't here to preach to us about peace and love?" she asked.

"Hey, mama, peace and love are beautiful things," he replied. "And a soul filled with peace and love is like a cosmic treasure. Nothing like it."

"Yeah, you guys are supposed to be soul collectors, right?" Buffy asked. "So why did the first guy take our memories, and the second guy take Spike's heart? Are you just easily distracted?"

"Ha! A little bit, yeah," the Joiner answered with a short bark of laughter. "Listen, Slayer, I think you're one groovy chick, so I'm gonna level with ya. It's harder to take the soul all at once. That's why we try to take the memory first. They're nice and spongy and flexible, so it makes it the easiest to pry loose."

"But we got our memories back," Buffy replied.

"We don't need to keep 'em, mama. We just wanted to loosen them up a bit," he said, leaning back against one of the railings. "Now a Slayer soul... that's heavy. One girl in a generation? That makes for one sparkling diamond of love for all mankind. A lot harder to collect, but there's nothing more beautiful. So usually we go for the heart next."

"Then why did the last guy go after Spike's heart instead?" she asked.

"The Refiner noticed something when he was sizing you up," the Joiner replied. "You don't have a heart, Slayer."

Buffy felt a chill crash over her skin at his words. "What?" she whispered.

"We heard some rumors that you died," the vodnik continued. "We figured they weren't rumors after all and you were brought back from the dead without the whole enchilada. You got your soul and memories back, and whatever it takes to keep you alive and kicking. But your heart dodged the draft."

"You're lying," Buffy accused.

"Now you don't really believe that do you, Slayer?" he asked, leaning forward with a friendly smile. "Bet you've felt the hole in your chest this whole time. The emptiness... no love or peace to be found... It's gotta have tipped you off."

"That's a load of bollocks, I can hear her heart beating right now," Spike argued.

"That's just a muscle, man, a chunk of meat," the vodnik replied. "The real heart, like the soul, is immaterial. And yours is gone, mama," he said to Buffy.

"Can I get it back?" she asked quietly.

"Of course, Slayer. The human spirit's the only thing that lasts in this beautiful world." He stepped forward, still the picture of friendliness, until he revealed a metal cup sitting in his hand. "But if I told you how to get it back, I'd just be making it harder for me to take your soul."

He was standing just far enough out of reach that it was too late too stop him from flinging the liquid in the cup in Buffy's direction. Spike dove into the liquid's path, letting the magic wash onto him instead.

"Too bad, mate. I don't have a soul to take," Spike said, sweeping the liquid off of his duster.

"Oooh, this is heavy, man" the Joiner said.

"What?" Spike asked, freezing mid motion.

"Some of the liquid that splashed off of you got onto her," he replied. Spike whirled around to see Buffy crouched on the floor, and he ducked down beside her in a panic. "Probably carried some of your vibes with it. This is totally unpredictable. Just in case..." A shimmer of water passed over the vodnik before he split in two, resulting in two complete hippie demons. Then those two started to split, multiplying again.

"Buffy, sweetheart, you gotta get up," Spike said, shaking her by the shoulders. Her face was buried in her knees so he couldn't see her reaction. "This place will be like Woodstock in a tick if we don't stop his little magic trick." A giggle bubbled up from behind her knees.

"Buffy?" Spike asked.

Buffy sprang up from her crouched position, a triumphant grin on her face as she took in the scene of the rapidly multiplying vodniks. "I'm not great at math so I'm gonna need you to nix the multiplication," she said. She threw a hard punch into the face of the nearest vodnik, sending him flying backwards off the balcony. When he hit the ground, he dissolved in a splash of water, sending people scrambling out from underneath the balcony with a chorus of startled cries. The rest of the vodniks stopped multiplying, and turned towards Buffy. She looked over the balcony, wiping her damp fist off on her shirt. "Talk about making a splash," she quipped with a cheesy grin.

Buffy turned to face the now very large horde of hippies. She felt _better_. The emptiness was gone. In its place was a feeling of completeness. She felt _full_ , even more full than she felt when she was alive.

"Buffy, you alright, love?" Spike called to her as the vodniks started their attack.

"Better than all right, I'm freaking fantastic!" she shouted, making her way over to where Spike was fighting. She slammed a vodnik's head against a balcony railing, then stomped her boot down on his head with a splash when he slumped to the floor. When she reached Spike, she grabbed him by his shirt collar and slammed her lips to his for a good luck kiss. "Let's show these guys why they don't mess with team Slayer," she said with a smirk, before spinning back away from him and kicking a vodnik hard across the neck.

Buffy was suddenly hit with an incredible feeling of lust out of nowhere, as a fire blossomed in her belly and shot straight down to her core. For some reason, the mental image of her wearing a very skimpy valkyrie outfit, brandishing a spear and wearing a necklace that looked like it was made of handcuffs popped into her head.

"Woah, that was wiggy," she muttered, shaking her head to clear it of that weird image.

"Buffy!" Xander called out to her from the lower level. "What's going on up there?"

"Get everyone out of the club!" Buffy called back. "I'll meet you guys outside before you know it."

"We can help!" Willow called up too.

"I got this!" she said with a quick punch to a vodnik's face. "Help me by doing some people herding!" She looked down over the balcony to make sure they were following her instructions, and turned back to the fray once she saw them funneling people towards the exit.

"On your left, Slayer," she heard Spike say, before he spun her out of the way of a charging vodnik and threw his fist through his gut with a watery splash. Buffy grinned at the vampire and flipped herself over his shoulders to get past him.

Another vivid image invaded Buffy's mind, this time of her performing the exact same flip move. Only instead of flipping over Spike, mental Buffy landed on top of him, pinning him to the ground as she handcuffed his wrists above his head and started having her naughty way with him.

Buffy blinked rapidly to make sure she was seeing the battle before her and not the sexy images in her head.

"I'm getting some, uh, interesting mental pictures, Spike," she called to him. "I think I'm seeing what you're thinking. Pretty sure these are your fantasies about me."

"Wait, what?" he asked, turning toward her. "How do you know they're from me?"

"I just got the one about the handcuffs," she replied.

"Yeah, that was me all right," he said with a smirk, before his smile turned sheepish. "Uh, don't think I can stop thinking about you like that, love. Those kind of thoughts come unabated pretty much all the time."

"They're kinda distracting," Buffy said with a high kick to send an approaching vodnik over the balcony. "Maybe once we take these guys out we can go home and reenact some of them."

Her response triggered another image of Spike handcuffed to his bed with Buffy riding him at full speed. She gasped and gripped the banister in support as she was hit with another intense wave of lust.

"Jeez Spike!" she shouted at him, willing the imagery away. "I'm getting week in the knees over here!"

"Well, if you don't want me to think about it, you shouldn't be suggesting it!" he replied, snapping a vodnik's neck. Buffy smashed two vodnik's heads together and walked through the spray to drag a finger down Spike's cheek.

"I didn't say I didn't like it," she said with a saucy grin. Spike's nostrils flared, and she got another flash, this time of them having sex right there against the wall in the Bronze, relentless and frenzied. "All right, that's it..." she muttered, backing away from Spike. She needed to take out these vodnik's right now. Buffy had way more important matters to deal with.

She climbed up onto the railing and looked down at the remaining sea of vodniks. "Hey! Hippie guys!" she shouted down at them. "Let's get this over with already, huh? Why don't you come at me all at once and stop wasting my time!"

That did the trick. All the vodniks rushed at her, trying to both push her off the balcony and pull her down into the fray. Buffy just kicked and punched at them as they swarmed around her, taking them out two or three at a time. When the flock was thinned down enough she jumped into the mass of demons and started flinging them bodily at each other, knocking them down like bowling pins. It was a hurricane of violence, with Buffy at the eye of the storm and Spike picking off the stragglers on the edges.

Spike hit one of the vodniks just a little too hard, and his fist passed right through the splash and into Buffy's back.

"Ow! Bloody hell!" he cried, stumbling back. Buffy spun towards him, questioning whether his reaction was what she thought it was. "My chip's reacting to you again, pet. I better watch myself."

"Does that mean-" Buffy cut herself off with an almost hysterical giggle, deciding not to question it and just content to enjoy the fact that she was her again. Dates with Spike were just the _best_.

The battle seemed like it was over almost as soon as it began. Buffy stood up victorious, standing in the center of the huge puddle as she put her fist through the last vodnik's heart. She flipped her wet hair like she was the star of a shampoo commercial, then looked at Spike and gave him a triumphant grin. "Now where were we?" she asked.

This time it was different. The sensation she was hit with was no lusty tingle. Instead she felt an almost overwhelming wave of pure and unrestrained love. She felt presents on Christmas morning. She felt warm cuddles under the covers. She felt romantic poetry.

Spike's poetry.

Buffy was feeling Spike's love. Spike's love for _her_. And it was the most powerful emotion she had ever experienced. He didn't just have a heart. He had an _enormous_ heart that was full to bursting with love for her. She gasped from the intensity of it all and fell to her knees. Spike rushed to her side and crouched down to put his arm around her.

"Buffy, you OK, love?" he asked.

"Spike..." she gasped out as she reached for the lapels of his duster. "I can feel your love! How do you have so much love?"

He laughed incredulously and looked her in the eyes with adoration. "I don't need a soul to love you," he replied. Tears filled Buffy's eyes as she was overwhelmed with the emotion, and kissed him gently on he lips.

"Your heart... It's so big it takes the place of your soul," she whispered to him. "Not the demon." She gave him a full, long kiss, and drank in the feeling of his love flowing out of his heart and into hers. She felt him filling her up, making her complete.

"This is far out, man, you're sharing the vampire's heart," the vodnik's voice came from the far end of the balcony. Buffy's face snapped in his direction as she broke off the kiss. She thought she had gotten them all, but the original must have been hiding out while his copies did the dirty work.

"I can totally feel the good vibes from over here," the Joiner continued. "It's a real bummer I have to reverse the spell."

"No..." Buffy whispered. "Don't!" she yelled, jumping up from her spot on the floor and rushing towards him. The vodnik dove backwards off the balcony and landed in a crouch like a frog on the lower level, emptying the metal cup out in the process.

All of a sudden the love was gone. The heart she had was gone. The fullness and completeness was gone. She felt paralyzed with the emptiness that took its place. Buffy saw the Joiner wave at her from the lower level and then blow away on the wind, just as his brothers had.

She collapsed onto the railing, devastated.

"No... no... not this," she muttered to herself. "I can't feel like this. Not any more." Spike rushed up beside her once again.

"Give it back," she said, straightening up and flinging her arms around his neck. "I _need_ it back." She began kissing him frantically, but she couldn't feel his love flowing through her.

"Give what back?" he asked between kisses.

"Your heart," she cried, pulling back.

"You already have it, love," he replied, shaking his head. "You know you do."

Buffy looked into his face, open with concern and love for her, before sliding down him and falling down to her hands and knees. She _did_ know his heart was already hers. She felt it. And now it was just another fact of life for her. The sky was blue. Water was wet. Spike loved her.

"Then how do I get _mine_ back?" she whispered helplessly as Spike sank to his knees beside her. "So I can feel that amazing love again. I want to love again..."

"The vodnik said there was a way, but I'll be damned if I know what it is," he replied, rubbing his hand along her back. "Maybe it's like a vampire's heart. Just need something to leash the demons."

"I don't know how to do that," Buffy sighed, shaking her head.

"Then we'll learn," he said. "We can make these scars heal."

"Like yours?" she asked sadly, sitting up and touching his eyebrow.

"Just surface, kitten," he said. "Doesn't change who I am. Doesn't define me. Just as your pain doesn't define you."

"But I-"

"This is a good thing, Buffy," he urged, gripping her shoulders. "We know why you're feeling the way you do. We know there's a way to fix it. I just... don't know what it is yet."

Buffy looked back at him in wonder. Maybe it was just an echo of what she had experienced before, but even without a heart, she thought she could feel his love in that moment. She slipped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek.

"You're right," she said. "We'll do research or something. Figure it out. We always do."

"That's my girl," Spike replied, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her in for a tight hug.

"We're gonna have to talk about this handcuff fantasy of yours," she whispered in his ear. "And why you're the one always wearing them."

Spike pulled back, surprise on his face. "You're a dominating woman, Buffy, and well..."

"I didn't mean right now," Buffy chuckled.

"Oh..." Spike realized, his face falling. "Right."

"We should go back to your place to do that."

Spike grinned, rushed them to their feet and pulled Buffy by the hand as he raced to get out of the club.

* * *

 **Dead Things was one of my favorite episodes, making it really tough to figure out what to keep and build off of and what to scrap. Hopefully what's there still works.**


	8. Older and Moving Forward

Another year, another birthday. It seemed like tempting fate to have a party, since Buffy's birthday was always the time that mega-badness came out to play. Maybe her bad karma would give her a break this year because of the few months she spent dead and buried. She didn't really have a full year to age yet, unless you counted being a corpse as aging. But who was she kidding? Even if things didn't go wrong, this year was already screwed up enough as it is. She was growing older without a heart.

Buffy leaned over and rested her head on the kitchen island. How old was she this year? Twenty one? It felt like it wasn't a big enough number for the amount of aging she'd done in her life. She should just double it and tell people she was forty two. Maybe losing your heart was why middle aged people had their midlife crises around then, and this hollowness was just part and parcel of growing up. Whatever that means.

Willow and Tara's laughter wafted out from the living room. The sound echoed around in the emptiness Buffy held inside and she could have sworn she felt that hollow grow deeper. No, losing your heart wasn't natural. Buffy wasn't supposed to feel this way. It was her friends that did this to her. And it seemed like every time she had to spend time with them, the divide between them just got worse.

"Buffy."

Buffy perked her head up off the counter at the sound of a voice. Spike's voice. She looked around the kitchen but didn't see him anywhere.

"Over here," he said, his voice drifting out quietly from behind the basement door.

"What? Spike?" Buffy asked, straightening up and wandering over to the basement door. "Why are you in the basement?" she asked carefully.

"Come here," he replied, as she heard his steps going down the stairs. "I want to show you something."

Buffy looked at the door handle in confusion. What was that guy doing? And did she trust Spike to let him lure her into the basement alone? Buffy almost laughed at her mental question. Of course she did. Spike had become the only thing left in the world she _could_ trust. She didn't know why she even bothered to question him in the first place. Old habits died hard, she guessed. She put her hand on the door handle, and slowly opened the door.

Spike was nowhere to be found. Buffy took a couple tentative steps down the stairs before stopping to call out. "Spike? What's going on?" she asked.

"Close the door," his voice came from around the stairs out of view.

She made her way back up the stairs and did as he asked, before turning back just in time to see him rounding the corner at the base of the stairs.

In a police uniform.

A very tight police uniform, with very thin fabric.

"I'm here to serve and protect," he said with a leer, as he very slowly began to make his way up the stairs.

Buffy stood frozen to the spot, entranced by the sight in front of her. The way the uniform bunched and stretched around his tight muscles with every deliberate step. The way his hand slid up the banister as if he were caressing her naked body. The way he stared up at her with such a powerful hunger in his eyes that Buffy wasn't sure if he wanted to eat her or ravish her.

It may have been the hottest thing she had ever seen, and she had seen him naked. How did that work?

For a second Buffy thought Spike might have had her under a thrall for how captivated she was by him. It wasn't until she realized she was almost drooling that she snapped her mouth shut and tried to drag herself back to reality. He was standing on the step below her now, which didn't make it any easier to concentrate.

"You didn't hurt anyone for that uniform did you?" she asked, her eyes raking down his body.

"Course not," he replied, sounding offended that she would even suggest such a thing. "That would ruin the present."

"Present?" she asked, only just now noticing the little details of the uniform. Like the fact that the front buttons were all snaps for example. "Oh my god!" She tore his shirt open, revealing Spike's bare chest to her. "This is a stripper outfit!" she exclaimed.

"Oi, ease off!" Spike said, closing the shirt and snapping it back up. "I've got a whole routine planned, so do you want your present or not?"

"Oh! Um," Buffy stammered, barely containing an eager giggle. "Sorry, Officer. Did you need me for something?"

"Yeah," he replied, his sly smile returning to his face. "Got a call that you were disrupting the peace. Gonna have to do a pat down. Turn around, put your hands on the door and spread 'em."

Buffy did as she was told, her skin humming in anticipation. She hadn't exactly been expecting this situation when she put on a short skirt for her birthday party, but it made her feel dangerously exposed. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his hands on her.

He started on her back, near her shoulders, his hands gliding slowly down her shoulder blades until he reached her ribcage. Then he brought his hands around to her front and slid them up to her breasts, massaging them with his palms as his thumbs worked her nipples through the fabric of her shirt.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"Just tryin' to be thorough, miss," Spike answered, his hands slowly running back down to her hips. "Never know where you're gonna find a..." His hands found the stake she had tucked into the waistband of her skirt and pulled it out for her to see.

"Now, miss, you should have disclosed that you had a concealed weapon," he said, taking the final step up to the landing and positioning himself right behind Buffy. "I'm gonna have to restrain you."

Buffy swallowed hard as she heard the rattling of handcuffs being taken off his belt. She had pretty much worn out those handcuffs on him, but she had been too anxious to try them out herself. She jumped when he slapped them on her right wrist. "Easy," he whispered in her ear, breaking character to reassure her. Instead of bringing her arms down to handcuff them together behind her back, he handcuffed his own right wrist to hers. He placed his hand over the back of hers, lacing his fingers with hers against the door. Buffy immediately relaxed at his solution.

"I'm gonna have to do a cavity search to find any more weapons you're hiding," he said, getting back into his bit. God, this whole routine was driving her a little bit crazy. She was pretty sure she had never felt this turned on in her life. His free hand slid down over her butt and slipped underneath her skirt, immediately tearing her underwear away. Buffy was going to have to buy a lot more underwear for him to destroy as long as she kept seeing Spike like this.

Buffy let out a little moan as he slid a finger inside her. "Bloody hell, you're wet," Spike muttered under his breath, before clearing his throat. "I mean... you realize that I could take you to jail for trying to accost a police officer?" he asked. A second finger joined the first, as he began slowly sliding them in and out of her.

"Spike, please," Buffy whimpered. She had never felt more ready for him.

"Officer Spike," he corrected in her ear.

"Oh, Officer Spike," she amended, rolling her head back as he dipped his head and started planting kisses all along her neck. "I think this is police brutality."

"Resisting arrest, are you?" he murmured huskily against her skin. "I'm gonna have to use my nightstick on you then."

"God yes," Buffy pleaded. Spike nibbled her earlobe as she heard the tinkle of his belt buckle being undone. She didn't have to wait long before she felt him entering her in one confident thrust. She gasped loudly and arched her hips back against him. She had never had sex from this angle before and he was hitting spots she didn't even know existed. Buffy couldn't help gasping with each thrust as he started moving in and out of her.

She wasn't sure how long they had just been going at it when Buffy tensed up, hearing voices on the other side of the door in the kitchen. Spike slowed down his thrusts at her response and straightened their posture.

"Where'd she go?" Tara's muffled voice asked. People will start showing up really soon."

"She was in here a minute ago," Willow said.

Spike brought his chest close to her back and pushed himself in deep. Buffy leaned against the door and shut her eyes tight, fighting hard not to make any noise.

"Maybe she went outside or something," Tara said, now right outside the basement door.

Spike put a finger to Buffy's lips, and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "You have the right to remain silent," he said, all the while sliding in and out of her with slow, sensual thrusts.

She should want to stop. Her friends were right there looking for her. Instead it just excited her further, to know she was getting away with something she shouldn't be doing right under their noses. She always did what everyone else wanted her to do, always worried about what other people thought of her. But now, she was doing what _she_ wanted. And right now what she wanted was for the amorous vampire in the stripper cop uniform to screw her brains out.

Buffy sucked Spike's finger into her mouth and bit down hard, trying not to scream out in pleasure. She heard the bones in Spike's face shift as he let the demon out, a low growl escaping from his throat. The doorbell rang at the same instance, hiding the sound from the people in the kitchen.

"I guess we'll just tell people she'll be back later," Willow said, as the sound of footsteps signaled their exit.

Buffy released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and arched back against Spike once more. He took that as his cue to pick up the pace, driving into her with renewed passion. Buffy started gasping for breath again, feeling herself close to the edge. Spike's free hand slid down between her thighs, caressing and massaging her sensitive little button until a flash of white exploded behind her eyes and she clenched her muscles down on Spike, bringing him to release at the same time. She collapsed against the door as her legs turned to jelly, letting Spike support them both.

"I think I just," she said pausing to catch her breath. "I fought the law."

"And the law won," Spike replied with a kiss to her neck.

* * *

Buffy felt like she was walking on air as she exited the basement hand in hand with Spike, now dressed in his regular black clothes and duster. "That was definitely one of the more memorable birthday gifts I ever got," she said, turning back to him and grabbing hold of his other hand.

"Yeah well," he said, the smile on his face actually turning sheepish. "Was pretty sure you were just gonna laugh me out into the sunlight the second you laid eyes on me, so I doubled down on a backup plan." He released her hand and reached into his duster pocket, bringing out a set of spiked knuckles with wooden tips to hand to her. "If the outfit and routine was for the vixen in you, this one is for the Slayer."

Buffy smiled at the weapon, slipping it onto her fingers. "Perfect for throwing a dusty punch," she replied, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"You don't seem surprised," Spike said.

"Dawn kinda already told me about this a while ago," she said. "Sorry."

"Figured she might. The Niblet is terrible at keeping secrets," Spike replied, putting his hand into his pocket again and pulling out a little jewelry box. "You've got a gift for the woman, the warrior, and now this one is just for you. Happy birthday, Buffy," he said, putting the box in her hand.

Buffy looked at him in surprise, before taking the box and opening it up. Inside was a silver necklace with a circular pendant, she shape of a heart cut out of it. She felt her face fall. "Oh," she said, trying to hide her disappointment that he would get her a gift to remind her of how empty she was. "It's, um-"

"There's another piece to it, look," he said, lifting up the necklace to reveal a sliver heart adorned ring underneath it. "The heart on the ring fits into the necklace, see?" he said demonstrating for her. "It completes the necklace. Thought you might want to give it to your sis or the witch as we try to figure a way through this."

Buffy stared at the two pieces of jewelry. Someone else was supposed to help complete her, huh. The idea was surprisingly quaint, especially coming from Spike. "I don't think I can give it to anyone right now," Buffy said quietly, putting the jewelry box on the counter. "We're not really trying to figure out anything yet... since I haven't actually told anyone I'm missing my heart."

"What?" Spike asked, his eyebrows going up in surprise. "Why the bloody hell not?"

"It's not exactly an easy conversation," Buffy said. "I mean, how do you tell the people who love you and expect you to act a certain way that you're fundamentally _wrong_?"

"You told _me_ ," Spike offered. "Even before you knew about your missing heart you told me you were empty inside."

"Well... that's..." Buffy mumbled.

"Because you think I'm wrong too," Spike finished for her.

"Well, you are kinda... dead," she said. "And missing a piece of yourself. So I thought you'd just... get it. You without your soul, me without my heart." She looked up at him hopefully. "Hey, maybe _you_ should keep the ring."

"I'd gladly try to complete you Buffy," Spike said, offering her a weak smile. "But if you want your heart back you've gotta put it out there in the first place. Much as I'd love to keep you to myself I think part of that is opening up to your friends."

Buffy sighed heavily. "They're always so worried about me. Worrying that I came back wrong. If I told them that it's true... that I'm definitely not the same person anymore, they'd flip. Maybe even reject me."

Spike let out a quiet bark of laughter. "I may not be in the good graces of your mates, but I know they care about you. Enough to never reject you. Hell, I even tried to break up your motley crew when I was working for Adam. Couldn't do it. You all love each other too damn much."

"But if they knew I couldn't love them back anymore?" Buffy asked. "Nobody wants to be around that person."

"How'd you feel when Red came out to you?" Spike asked. "Were you disappointed in her?"

"No, of course not," Buffy replied. "I was a little sad that she felt the need to hide it from me. And I was surprised, and a little confused, yeah. But I'd never judge her for it. She's my best friend."

"She'd react to you the same way, I'd wager."

"Being gay isn't the same thing as coming back from the dead without a heart," Buffy countered.

"No. But it's all just talking. Telling people you're different now," he said. "Just have to open up about it or the hole where your heart used to be is gonna get bigger and bigger until it swallows you up. And who knows. You get to talking... maybe you even end up telling your friends about us."

"I'm not so sure that's gonna be an easy conversation either," she replied with a nervous chuckle.

"Didn't say it would be," he said. "I know I'm just dirt to all of them, muddying up your pristine waters."

"I don't think my waters are as clear as they used to be," Buffy replied. "Besides, every river has dirt in it."

"Care to get a little dirty after the party?" he asked, leaning in closer.

"We just did!" Buffy said, a mask of pretend shock covering her face.

"Can never have too much fun rolling around in the mud," he said with a smirk, bringing his lips down to hers.

Buffy was about to just wrap herself around Spike when Tara walked into the kitchen, stopping in her tracks with a surprised "Oh!"

Spike immediately pulled back to face Tara, while Buffy instinctively brought her hand to her mouth as if she could hide the kisses she had just been getting. She felt her face grow hot with embarrassment.

"Uh, hey Glinda..." Spike said casually. "Buffy was just, um... telling me a joke."

"That's the best you could come up with?" Buffy whispered to him.

"It was a dirty joke," Spike said, unable to hide the smile peeking through from getting caught. "Had to get real close to whisper it to me."

"Guys, it's OK. Really," Tara said, clearly just as embarrassed as Buffy was. "I mean... I won't tell anyone. What you do together is your business..."

"It's not like a skanky thing or anything," Buffy stammered, not sure where she was going with this. Spike raised an eyebrow at her.

"I know," Tara replied, shaking her head. "I know Spike really cares about you. Anyone can see it. So I'll just... let you get back to it." She slowly started backing out of the kitchen.

"Thank you, Tara," Buffy said gratefully. Tara nodded one last time before turning around and bolting out of the kitchen.

"Maybe coming clean won't be so hard after all," Spike said, turning back to Buffy.

"Not sure I want to get clean..." Buffy replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. Spike growled in response before diving in for another kiss.

Tara, meanwhile, had to stop and sit down in the dining room with a cup of punch, frantically trying to process what she just saw. Dawn had walked into the room without Tara even noticing, since she was so lost in thought. Taking in the dazed look on Tara's face, Dawn spoke carefully to her.

"Hey, Tara," she asked, causing Tara to startle slightly. "You OK?"

"Y-yeah," she replied hastily. "Just... just thinking about stuff, you know. And things."

Dawn's eyes slid over to the kitchen doorway where Buffy walked out to make her way to the living room, Spike not far behind her. It looked like they had magnets in their hands, the way they seemed to be unconsciously reaching for each other. They weren't actually touching, but they clearly wanted to.

"You saw something, didn't you?" Dawn asked, turning her attention back to Tara.

"Wh-what?" Tara asked, nervously trying to hide the surprise in her voice.

"I know there's something going on between Spike and Buffy," Dawn replied, crossing her arms. "She acts more like herself whenever he's around and goes back to being a zombie when he's not. And I'm sick of her hiding it from me."

"Dawn," Tara said, standing up from her seat. "If Buffy has some personal issues she's going through she needs to make those decisions herself."

"Not if it takes her a million years!" Dawn cried. "I'm her sister! She's supposed to include me in her life now that she's..." She waved her arms in the direction of the living room. "Alive! I'm tired of her shutting me out. I want her to share some of that life with me, instead she's saving it all for Spike."

"I don't think it's that simple, Dawn," Tara said. "Buffy was dead. For months. And though we could bring her back, we couldn't make her _feel_ alive. You don't really get a choice in that."

"But that means something's making her feel alive in the first place. And she's hiding it from us," Dawn argued. "And _that_ means she thinks she can't be happy around the rest of us."

Tara opened her mouth to speak but Dawn interrupted her. "I don't know if she thinks I'll get all judgy or something, which is crazy because Spike is one of the coolest guys I know... Or.. or because she'd rather just be alone with Spike than with me. I don't know _anything_ because she won't talk to me. I just want her to admit what's going on so I don't get just half a sister anymore."

"Have you talked to her about this?" Tara asked quietly.

"I've tried!" Dawn cried. "She just won't talk to me. About anything. I wanna do a spell to make her tell the truth."

"Dawn, no," Tara replied. "You can't make this decision for her. It's not right."

"Fine, then I wanna do a spell that _helps_ her make the decision to tell the truth," Dawn said. "I waited too long without her in my life. Now she's back in _her_ life but still not back in mine. I won't wait anymore. I want you to cast a spell so that she would _want_ to be around me and everyone else as much as she wants to be around Spike."

"I can't, Dawn. I won't," Tara said firmly. She was quiet for a moment as Dawn's eyes began brimming with tears. "But I can... make the party impossible to end until she's opened up a little. To nudge her along."

"Yes," Dawn agreed hastily, wiping her nose. "Nudge away. Let's do this."

* * *

"I gotta be at the site in an hour," Xander said, looking at the pair of fives in his hand as Buffy drew a card. A group of them sat in a circle on the floor playing poker while Tara and Willow were passed out on the couch.

"Ugh," Buffy said, looking at the hand of cards she was dealt.

"You're supposed to keep a poker face if you get a bad hand, kitten," Spike said. "Not let everyone at the table know you've got nothing."

"You'd think she'd be better at bluffing by now," Anya remarked, drawing a card. "We've been playing this for hours."

"Whatever, I fold," Buffy said, before glancing over to Spike. "I'm gonna go upstairs and check on the leaky faucet."

"Again?" Dawn asked. "I used it a few minutes ago and it was fine."

"I just wanna make sure those pipes are taken care of," Buffy replied, standing up. "They need a lot of attention lately."

"Oh, uh, let me help you, love," Spike said, putting the two pair in his hand face down on the weapons chest they had been using as a table. "Got a crap hand anyway." He stood up as Buffy made her way towards the stairs.

"You want me to take a look at it, Buff?" Xander called before she made her way upstairs. "Mr. I-died-before-the-advent-of-indoor-plumbing here must not be doing a very good job if you keep worrying about it like this."

"Nah, Spike's been helping me a lot with the pipes lately," Buffy said. "I prefer to let him keep handling it." She bounded up the stairs out of sight.

"I've got plenty of experience dealing with these pipes, Harris, I'll get the job done," Spike replied before quickly following after Buffy.

"If they have to mess with the pipes three times in the span of one party then the job's not getting done right," Xander continued, even though Buffy and Spike weren't around to hear it. "Though this is one of the longer parties I've ever been to. But still, you'd think they could just take a wrench and tighten the leaky joint or something."

"That's because they're really just having sex up there," Anya said, drawing a card. Dawn's eyes practically bugged out of her head at Anya's frank observation.

"Wha- what? No way, Buffy would never... with Spike," Xander sputtered. "Spike's a freak, and Buffy has standards."

"She's slept with a vampire before, so Spike fits that standard," Anya replied. "And we all know he's been in love with her since even before she died."

"And Spike's not a freak," Dawn said. "After everything he did to help us after Buffy died... even before Buffy died-"

"He's still a soulless, bloodsucking demon, Dawn," Xander said.

"With a heart," she added.

"Yeah, so I heard," he muttered. "Still not sure I can believe that."

"Why don't you go upstairs and see for yourself if you need proof?" Anya suggested.

"I- there's no way... fine," Xander said, standing up an walking over to the stairs. "But if I end up just having to fix a leaky faucet, then I get to say I told you so." He walked up the stairs, looking a little hesitant.

"So..." Dawn said to Anya. "If Buffy and Spike _were_ together, would that bother you?"

"It makes no difference to me, Buffy can sleep with who she likes," Anya replied, shuffling the deck of cards. "She could use a little stress relief now and then anyway. And Spike seems the type to be _very_ devoted to Buffy's..." Anya paused, glancing at Dawn. "Relief."

Dawn sighed. "Well Buffy is never gonna admit it if it's true," she said, "Not if Xander flips out over it."

Anya stopped shuffling the deck. "Why does it matter what Xander thinks?" she asked.

"Buffy cares what _everyone_ thinks," Dawn replied. "Xander, Willow, Tara, _you..._ She always wants to pretend to be little miss normal, even though she's the Slayer. So if she lets on that she's even a little bit weird, like that she has a vampire boyfriend, she thinks there's something wrong with her and that everybody is gonna judge her."

Anya stared at Dawn, the conversation cut short by Xander slowly wandering down the stairs. His face was white, and his eyebrows were drawn up with worry.

"Well?" Anya asked.

"Either they're playing a very exciting game of Twister in Buffy's bedroom with the door locked, or you were right," he said. "Either way, I don't think the bathroom sink really has a leak." He slumped down on the floor between Anya and Dawn. "I can't believe it," he breathed out. "How can I even look her in the eyes after this?"

"You aren't actually judging her for this, are you?" Anya asked, looking back and forth between Xander and Dawn.

"How can I not?" he asked. "She's sleeping with the enemy!"

"Spike's been on our side for a long time now," Dawn said.

"That makes no difference!" Xander said. "He'll always be a bad guy."

"Girls _like_ bad boys," Anya suggested.

"Not Buffy," Xander said, shaking his head. "She stakes bad boys in the heart and turns them to dust."

"If she went upstairs with him three times over the course of the party then clearly he's doing _something_ to make her happy," Anya said.

"OK, first of all, ew," Xander said, putting his hands out and shaking them as if he could wave away the mental image. "I really didn't need to reframe the entire context of this party with their wild sexcapades."

"She's a grown up woman, Xander," Anya continued. "Who's died twice, and has to earn her keep for her and her not yet adult sister. Don't you think she can make this kind of decision on her own?"

"It's..." Xander trailed off, rethinking his argument for a second. "Just because she's an adult doesn't mean she can't make bad decisions. I'm plenty adult and I make them all the time."

"Yeah, and this decision to think less of Buffy over trying to forge a little slice of her own happiness is one of them," Anya replied.

"You know Spike's totally in love with her right?" Dawn cut in.

"It's Spike love!" Xander shouted, standing up from his spot on the ground and losing control over the volume of his voice. "It doesn't count as _real_ love."

"We know that's not true," Dawn argued, standing up to shout at him in return.

"Because another demon told you so!" Xander shot back. "He's probably looking out for his own kind, being a demonic wingman and trying to help a fellow demon get laid."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Dawn said.

"You guys!" Anya shouted as well, standing up with them. "You wanna maybe keep it down?" she asked. But by that point, Tara and Willow had already been woken up by all the shouting, and were now sitting up on the couch, wiping the sleep from their eyes.

"What's everyone yelling about?" asked Willow.

"Buffy's sleeping with Spike!" Xander shouted at her.

"What?" Willow shouted back, jumping up from her seat on the couch.

"Hey now," Tara said, standing up beside her. "That's not really any of our-"

"Umm..."

Everyone turned to face the new voice, only to see Buffy standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking uncomfortably at everyone. Spike stood a couple steps up behind her.

"Buffy, is it true?" Willow asked.

"Is this really an appropriate conversation to be having in front of my teenage sister?" Buffy said.

"Yeah, it is," Dawn cut in. "Because I want to know when my sister has a secret boyfriend."

Buffy looked for a long time at Dawn, then looked at all the other faces in the room staring expectantly at her in total silence. She turned to look at Spike, who stepped down the final two steps and stood beside her for support, letting her make the call.

"Yeah," Buffy said quietly. "Spike and I are... together."

The room erupted into a explosion of questions, all directed towards Buffy.

"All right, all right! One at a time!" Spike shouted over the din. Her friends immediately quieted down.

"Why him Buffy?" Xander asked, jumping at the chance for the first question. "Why not someone..."

"Safer?" Willow finished. "Or... or more normal?"

"Since when has the Slayer's life ever been safe or normal, Red?" Spike asked.

Buffy took a deep breath as she tried to figure out how to explain herself. She really didn't feel like she should have to explain herself in the first place, but she knew better than to think she would be getting out of this without a conversation.

"Spike makes me..." Buffy said, looking at her shoes. She wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. Not _happy_. She wasn't ready for happy. Not without her heart anyway. "Feel," she settled on. "We've been through a lot together. We understand a lot about each other. And he's just... there for me."

"So are the rest of us, Buffy," Xander interrupted. "But we aren't trying to get all kissy with you."

"I _died_ , Xander," Buffy stressed. "I had to claw my way out of my own grave. Spike could relate, and we just... grew close. I need you guys to accept that. Because I need him in my life right now."

Before anyone could say anything else, Dawn stepped forward and threw her arms around her sister in a big hug. "Well I think it's awesome," she said. "I just wish you could tell us sooner. Spike, you should stay over more often now that this is all out in the open."

"That's up to your sis, Nibblet," he replied with a soft smile.

Dawn turned back to face Xander, daring him to keep the argument going. "Well?" she asked.

Xander looked at Dawn, then Buffy, and then finally at Anya. There was no way he was going to win this. "I... I guess I can not be the judgy guy. I won't," he said. "You know what you need better than I do, Buff. So you should get to be with whoever you want." He looked over to Willow, silently pleading for her to take her turn.

"Well, I'm the last person who can judge somebody else for who they want to love," Willow replied. "A-and... I don't have to understand it to accept it."

"Does it feel like this party has been going on for a really, _really_ long time?" Anya cut in before anyone else could make any grand gestures of acceptance. "We should probably go home."

There were a lot of tired murmurs of agreement as people began to shuffle out the door. Spike turned to Buffy, his smile a mix of appreciation and oddly enough, shyness.

"I should probably go too, pet," he said. "Let you and your sis sort things out."

"No way, Spike," Dawn interjected. "Now that I finally know Buffy won't kick you out, you're staying. Besides, I haven't painted your nails this week. Be right back!" she ran up the stairs excitedly.

Buffy offered Spike a tired smile. "I think I have some blood in the fridge," she said. "Want some?"

"That'd be grand, yeah," he replied, following Buffy to the kitchen and leaning on the counter. He was quiet as she poured the blood into a coffee cup and put it into the microwave. "You didn't tell them about your heart," he said quietly, his voice just barely audible over the hum of the microwave.

"Yeah," Buffy replied, matching his volume. "I'm not sure I'm ready to share that yet. For now, it's yours."

"Your secret, you mean?" Spike asked.

"The hole where my heart should be," Buffy clarified. "It's kind of like I'm giving you an empty space for rent. But at least everyone knows it's yours now," she said with a shrug.

Spike put his hands on Buffy's hips and rested his forehead against hers. "I'd park my own heart in there if I could, love."

"I know. That's why I don't wanna share this just yet," she said. "Promise you won't tell?"

"Cross my heart," Spike whispered, before bringing his lips down to hers.

In Spike's arms, Buffy swore she felt that hole shrink just a little bit smaller.

* * *

 **Just a bit of fluff. :)**


	9. Who You Are

Buffy had been dreading this, and had put it off as long as possible. But the day had finally come where she couldn't avoid it any longer. The scooby gang had cornered her in the Magic Box one late afternoon with a fresh pizza and would only hand it over if she agreed to help look for some answers. It was time... for a research party.

"OK, with the hippie vodnik, uh what was that one called?" Buffy asked, settling in at the table with the rest of the group around the pizza box.

"The Joiner," Spike replied, leaning against the register counter.

"Right, him. Well we didn't manage to break his cup, so we should figure out how to destroy it when he comes back," she continued. "It looked like it was made of silver or something. I'm not sure how we can break that stuff down."

"Looked like tin to me," Spike replied, crossing his arms. "Old too."

"How could you tell?" Willow asked around her pizza slice.

"Those little imprints on the side," Spike said. "Looked like the decorative punched tin cups me mum fancied."

"Well how do we break it?" Xander asked.

"Hell if I know," Spike replied. "Try standin' out in the rain with it so it rusts like the tin man."

"Technically tin oxidizes, not rusts," Willow said. When she got some tired looks she continued. "Sorry. It's something that got drilled in my head whenever we watched Wizard of Oz for Thanksgiving. I think Giles had a bunch of tin cans left in the basement. I'm gonna grab some and start experimenting." She finished up her pizza slice, wiped off her hands, and stood up.

"Thanks, Willow," Buffy called after her as she headed for the basement door. Willow smiled back, clearly eager to help out.

"I guess we should also try to find out more about what the vodniks are after," Buffy said.

"Well we know they want your soul, Buff," Xander replied.

"Yeah, but" Tara cut in. "The surfer one, the Seeker, said that the soul was only a third of the human spirit. And he took our memories instead."

"Right," Buffy replied. "So we should look up everything we can about memory."

"And the doctor guy went after Spike's heart," Dawn said.

"The Refiner, yeah," Buffy replied. "I want to know what heartlessness does, and how to get a heart back."

"Didn't Spike get his heart back?" Anya asked.

"Yeah, but," Buffy said, shifting in her seat. "I want to be prepared in case that doesn't happen next time." Spike stared pointedly at Buffy at her remark. Buffy did her best to ignore him.

"Willow and I already did a ton of research on the soul back when she was trying to restore Angel's," Xander said. "I don't know how much more we're gonna learn there."

"If anything we need to figure out how memory, heart, and soul all relate to each other," Buffy said. "The Seeker seemed to think Giles's books were wrong. I wonder if there's some different perspectives in these other books."

"All right, guess we better start looking then," Xander said, standing up. Everyone moved to grab some various books, except Anya, who parked herself behind the computer to do some inventory logging. Willow came back up the stairs as the research began in earnest and put a box with ingredients on the register counter.

"What ya got there, Red?" Spike asked, flipping through a book as Willow started putting different bowls on the counter and filling them with bottled water.

"Figured I'd just soak some cans for a bit and see what the most effective ingredients are," Willow replied. "Just water for this one, salt water here, and water with vinegar in this one." She started mixing the ingredients together.

"Hey, Buffy?" Tara called. "I'm reading the foreword to this Spells of Memory book... And this bit here is pretty interesting."

"Lay it on me," Buffy said.

"Memory can be likened to the focusing lens for the light of the soul," Tara said, beginning to read aloud. "If you shine a pure white light though a prism, like a good human soul, you can see a rainbow of colors. But if you shine the black empty void of a vampire's lack of soul though a prism, you see nothing. A set of memories define and shape a person's thoughts and experiences, changing the composition of that rainbow, making it brighter or dimmer, but a vampire's memories do nothing to affect their lack of soul. It is for this reason that memory adjustment spells are not completely forbidden. Removing a person's memories will not change a person's true nature the way removing their soul would."

"Hmm," Buffy said. "I guess that jives with how we all acted without our memories."

"I think," Tara said, turning away from the book and looking at Buffy. "Memories can hurt us or heal us, depending on which ones we dwell on. So if we're stuck feeling like there's nothing but bad, we have to make some good." Her eyes drifted over to where Willow was standing, and Buffy followed her gaze.

"Friends have their own demons too," Buffy muttered.

"Yeah, but a person can only fight theirs alone for so long," Tara replied. "It's why we have to help out one another. Some things, when you lose them, you lose them forever, so we only have our memories to remind us of them. We can either live in our memories of the way things used to be, or make a good life without those things. But we can never really go back to the way things were."

Buffy stared hard at Tara, taking in what she said. Buffy wasn't sure if Tara was just talking about her own experiences or if she knew more about Buffy then she let on, but her words really hit home. Whatever that means.

"S'not always about making things better or fixing what's broken, Glinda," Spike chimed in, close enough to hear their conversation. "Sometimes it's just about making do with what we have."

"Like how you make do with a heart but no soul?" Tara asked with a knowing smile.

Spike shrugged. "Every dog has his day," he replied. "Yours is coming soon, Buffy."

Buffy shook her head, trying to clear it so she could focus on the concept of memory in the abstract.

"The Seeker was going on and on about how humans place too much importance on the soul," she said, returning to the subject of the research. "Is there anything about memory being part of a trinity or trifecta alongside the soul?"

"Let me see," Tara replied, skimming the foreword for more information. She settled on a paragraph further down the page, and began to read aloud again.

"There is one strange exception that have caused some to question the memory as a prism concept: the Memory Declivity spell," Tara read. "Used sparingly, this spell is conjured up to downgrade a happy memory into a sad one. In one extreme case, a sorcerer tortured a man into losing every happy memory he had ever experienced by replacing them with misery and despair. His victim's instant madness and cruelty was so extreme that some believe the soul was ejected from his body upon completion of the spell."

"Like a vampire?" Buffy asked.

"No demon to take its place, sounds like," Spike replied. "Doesn't have the benefits or the need to drink blood, just the lack of morals."

"Babbage and his contemporary disciples believed that memory served as the seat of the soul as interconnected and balanced pieces," Tara continued. "They theorized that the victim's memories had been eroded so badly that they could not support the soul, causing it to come crashing down and be destroyed. In conjunction with other memory spells, they believed that erasing a person's memory entirely was like pulling the rug out from beneath the soul, sending it flying up to be caught by other elements of the human spirit before a person either regained their memory or formed new ones to seat the soul again."

"Other elements being the heart, I guess," Buffy supplied.

"Babbage's memory as a seat theory most likely places undue weight on the importance of memory and requires a third element to effect the balance of the human soul," Tara kept reading. "So the memory as a prism theory is widely accepted to be the more likely of the two. The Memory Declivity spell has been banned from use... and yada yada yada... it just goes on," Tara finished.

"Hey, did you say Babbage?" Spike asked excitedly, getting the attention of everyone else nearby.

"Yeah," Tara replied.

"There are some theories that," Spike began reading aloud from his own book. "Much like the soul, the heart is an intangible balancing element of the human spirit, and not merely a metaphor for the emotional center of the brain. Outside of Babbage's theorems and his small circle of followers, this has mostly been dismissed as fantasy." He held up the book he was reading. "The Metaphysical Mind," he said, supplying the title. "The only mention of a heart in the whole damn thing."

"Let me check the inventory to see if we have Babbage's Theorems," Anya said, overhearing the reference and looking up the book on the computer. "Umm, one copy, in the basement. Must not have been a hot seller for Giles," she said.

"I'll go see if I can find it," Spike offered. "Any clues as to where it'd be?"

Anya shrugged helplessly. "Probably in a box somewhere with the other discarded books."

"Right then, if I'm not back in an hour, send help," he said, heading towards the basement. "Preferably in the form of a scantily clad Slayer."

"I wish you guys still had to sneak around with this stuff," Xander said once Spike had disappeared down the stairs. "Spike being so blatant with his ogling of you is weirding me out.

"Was he ever really that subtle about it before, though?" Buffy asked. "Or did you just _really_ not want to see it?"

The front door chimed as it opened, and everyone tried to go back to looking like a casual group of people just shopping in a magic store, not researching soul collecting water demons. Buffy glanced towards the front door, and raised an eyebrow when she saw a hand waving a white handkerchief sticking though.

"White flag!" said the voice on the other side of the door. "I come in peace!" Everyone turned their attention to the door then, to see it open up and reveal the person standing in the sunset dusk on the other side.

"Harmony?!" Xander shouted.

"Hi everyone," she said cheerily, as if she were just greeting some old friends.

"You got some nerve coming back here after everything you've done," Buffy said quietly.

"But that's exactly why I'm back!" she said, putting her hands up defensively. "I'm here to make a ton of mens."

"You mean make amends?" Willow asked, trying to speak the strange Harmony language. "What brought this on?"

"I'm trying to get a cushy new job at this elite law firm in L.A.," she replied. "They're willing to hire vampires and demons and stuff. Very equal opportunity."

"That sounds kind of... evil," Xander said.

"I know, right?" Harmony exclaimed. "You'd think they would have no problem with me being the Slayer's mortal enemy, but at my interview they gave me some sort of story about how I threw their plans all out of balance or something and that I need to make things right with Buffy."

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" Buffy asked, walking up to her.

"I dunno, they said I could help you out by giving you information or something," Harmony said. "Maybe I could spill some dirt on Spike if you're still trying to get him out of your hair. Although..." She lifted her head, making loud sniffing noises towards Buffy. "You smell like an old trunk."

Harmony's eyes widened, and she stepped back away from Buffy slowly, raising her voice to project her announcement. "I know what I have to tell you all, now," she said dramatically. "Buffy is _sleeping_ with Spike."

There was an awkward pause before Anya spoke up. "Um, _yeah_. We know," she said.

"Oh," Harmony said, her face falling. "Well that's kinda desperate and slutty, isn't it?" she asked.

"Hey!" Buffy shouted. "Is this supposed to be your idea of helping us out?" she said.

"Spike has been part of our group for a while now," Dawn cut in. "He actually helps out a lot. Buffy and Spike together makes more sense to me than _you_ being here."

"Wait, so Spike gets to turn over a new leaf and be one of the good guys but I can't?" Harmony said. "That's not fair!"

"Spike has a chip in his head that prevents him from killing," Xander replied. "What's stopping you from doing harm... Harm?"

Buffy looked over at Xander in surprise. He was the last person she ever expected to stand up for Spike, and yet, there he was.

"You could at least give me a chance," Harmony whined. "Let me prove you wrong."

"Or prove us right," Willow said.

"Well, I found it but it smells like death, and not the yummy kind," Spike said, coming up from the basement as he brushed dust off a book in his hands. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Harmony standing over by the front door. "Oh for the love of- Hi Harm."

"Blondie Bear!" Harmony exclaimed, giving her most winning smile.

"Hey now, you shot me with a crossbow last we parted ways," Spike said, looking unamused. "'Sides, I'm not in the market for a bird."

"So I heard," Harmony replied, giving Buffy a sidelong glance. "The Slayer of Slayers sleeping with one? Pretty twisted, Spike."

"Yeah..." he replied with a wistful smile to Buffy. "Great, isn't it?"

"Look," Harmony said, releasing an exasperated sigh. "Can you at least tell them all that I'm a reformed woman?"

"Are you now?" Spike asked, raising a single brow. "Was that crossbow bolt in my back supposed to be your reformation?"

"You were the bad guy!" Harmony argued.

"Was _not_ ," Spike countered. "Just got a little confused that day with Drusilla back and all the ladies doing a number on me. I was still more of a white hat than _you_ were."

"But you know I could be a good guy too right?" she asked. "You could sense the goodness in me? That's why I could never do the whole evil routine right. Because I was too good deep down inside."

"Right, sure. You keep telling yourself that," Spike said, before turning his attention to Buffy. "Love, we've got more important things to worry about than this daft bint. This book is massive."

Spike dropped the book down on the table where Tara had been researching, and opened to the table of contents. "There's over a hundred pages about the heart," Tara said, looking in awe at the book.

"Not exactly a bit of light reading, is it?" Spike quipped.

Harmony wandered over behind them as they were all looking at the book, coming to a stop by Willow's science experiment on the register counter. "Why are you sitting your tin cans in water?" she asked Willow. "Are you washing them for a craft project or something?"

"Oh, um, we're trying to get them to corrode," Willow said. "So we can see what mixture will destroy them as fast as possible."

"Oh, you can do that with just a bit of vinegar, salt, and hydrogen peroxide," Harmony replied. "It'll take about ten minutes to corrode the metal though."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared in wonder at Harmony.

"What? " she asked. "My grandma really liked decorating with the rustic California gold rush style and would buy stuff new and rust it herself. She had me help her out with it tons of times."

"Harmony, that's..." Buffy said. "Actually incredibly helpful."

"Really?" Harmony asked, beaming back at her. "That's great! I guess my work here is done!"

Before she could say another word, the front door flew open, the chimes jangling angrily. Jonathan burst through the doorway, looking around the room wildly while taking in big gulps of air. He spun around and peeked back out the door before slamming it closed behind him and throwing his back up against it. "Uh... hi guys," he said, trying to catch his breath.

"Jonathan?" Buffy asked. She hadn't seen him since his little spell to make the whole world revolve around him. "Are you OK?"

"Y-yeah," he replied with an uneasy smile. "...No. Buffy, I have a confession to make." He walked over to stand in front of Buffy, twiddling his fingers and failing to make eye contact, still breathing heavily. "I'm part of a group... We were, uh... The Trio."

"The who what now?" Buffy asked.

"Warren, Andrew, and I formed an alliance to take over the city," he said. "And since you're the Slayer, we knew we had to get you out of the picture first. We were responsible for messing with your timeframe at college, demons at your construction job, and making you repeat the same customer over and over here in this store."

"What?! That was one of the worst non-life-altering days I've ever had!" Buffy exclaimed. "And trying to take over the city? Why would you want to do that?"

"Well, we wanted to be supervillians," he replied sheepishly.

"You know supervillians never win, right?" Buffy demanded angrily. "The good guys beat them."

"Actually, there's plenty of spinoffs and side stories in alternate universes where the bad guys won..." he trailed off at the unamused looks everyone was giving him. "Uh... A-anyway, we wanted to take you out, so we'd have free reign over Sunnydale. But all our attempts were kinda..."

"Super lame?" Harmony supplied.

"Well, I was _going_ to say amateur but fine," Jonathan said. "I think we kind of knew we weren't doing a great job, because when Warren heard about this _other_ famous group called the Trio... he took it personally. He got royally pissed that a group of demons had our supervillian name, so he had us summon them to get them out of the way." 

"A trio of demons," Anya muttered. "The vodniks? _You_ summoned the vodniks?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess they made more of an impression than we did."

"You're bloody right they did," Spike said indignantly. "I nearly killed Buffy because of them."

"I mean, even without a heart you were still really into me," Buffy said quietly to Spike.

"Could take everything I am and I'd still want to nibble on _you_ , sweetheart," he said under his breath.

"They took all our memories," Xander said.

"And they can multiply endlessly," Willow added.

"Why would you let them loose?" Tara asked.

"We... were sort of hoping they could deal with the Slayer for us," Jonathan said.

"They want to take my _soul_ , Jonathan," Buffy said.

"Yeah, exactly!" he replied. "They wouldn't _kill_ you, or anything. We figured not having a soul would be a nicer result for you."

"You stupid bloody git," Spike swore, taking a furious step towards him. "A Slayer with no moral compass or humanity? She's stronger than a master vampire and you wanted to unleash that force of destruction on Sunnydale!"

"I, uh, guess we hadn't really thought of it that way," Jonathon said.

"Bloody right you didn't," Spike said, his voice lowering to a threatening register.

"Well we screwed up," Jonathan said, throwing up his hands. "By summoning them in the first place and then again with... well, what happened last night."

"What happened last night?" Buffy asked.

"When the Joiner got back-"

"Which one is he again?" Buffy interrupted.

"The hippie," Jonathon answered.

"Oh right, Mr. Multiplication," Buffy said.

"Well he was the third vodnik to come back without your soul, so Warren started to lose it," Jonathan said. "I mean _really_ going off the deep end. He was pretty wacko already with the plan to summon the Trio in the first place, but now... he thought he could force them into doing what he wanted. When we summoned them, the trio were locked in place into these three separate pools of water. They were able to combine their energy to let down one force field at a time, which is why you only had to meet one at a time before."

"Let me guess," Buffy pinching the bridge of her nose. "You let all three out and things went sideways."

"More than a little bit, yeah," Jonathan replied. "See, one of the instructions we got to summon the Trio was to not mix the water. Obviously that was the water from the three pools right? Well, Warren thought it would punish the Trio or something, so he went ahead and got their waters all mixed together. Which ended up somehow mixing the _vodniks_ together. So instead of three separate demons, now you've got one triple powered soul collector."

"Great," Buffy said. "And he's probably not messing around like the sold separately editions."

"No, he definitely wants your soul now more than ever," Jonathan said. "The whole thing, it sounds like, heart and memories included."

"Well, what's he look like?" Buffy sighed. "So I can be on the lookout."

"Just like the other ones. Green hair, red eyes..." 

"No, they all look the same in the face," Buffy cut him off. "I mean what kind of California stereotype is this one? Hippie, doctor, surfer..."

"Um," Jonathan paused, scratching the back of his head in thought. "He sort of looks like if the hippie grew out of his peace and love phase and started a successful dot com business. Sports blazer over a t-shirt and jeans, hair pulled back in a ponytail, soul patch."

"So I guess the answer to the joke, 'what do you get when you combine a hippie, a doctor, and a surfer,' is a Silicon Valley venture capitalist," Xander quipped.

"So what happened after they combined?" Anya asked.

"They- _He_ said he was going to take all of our souls," Jonathan said. "He started with Warren, but he took one look at him and realized Warren didn't _have_ a soul."

"What?" Buffy asked. "I mean, I knew he was a jerk because of the whole robot girlfriend thing but-"

"He wasn't always like that," Jonathan objected. "It turns out he had sold his soul to get the instructions on how to summon the Trio in the first place. He thought they could get it back for him or something. But the combined vodniks weren't about to let Warren off the hook, and he apparently still had some human spirit left to take besides the soul. So they took his heart and memories as well. Now he's more like..."

"A zombie?" Buffy asked.

Jonathan looked at the ground in silence for a long moment, before looking back up to Buffy. "Yeah..."

"How'd you get away?" she asked.

"Andrew and I bolted after he turned Warren, and the vodnik followed after Andrew instead of me," Jonathan shrugged sadly. "Luck of the draw I guess."

"Yeah, real lucky you came here," Spike said menacingly. "Now I get to kill you."

"Spike, stop," Buffy said quietly.

"There's an unchained, triple powered, soul collecting demon with a hard on for Slayer souls out there because of this little prat," Spike pointed an accusing finger at Jonathan. "Don't tell me you're gonna take him under your wing."

"He's telling us this to help us," Buffy said. "And so that we can help him. We have to."

"Bollocks to that," Spike said, heading for the front door of the shop. "If I have to put up with this wanker I'm not about to do it sober." He stormed out of the Magic Box and slammed the door behind him.

Buffy sighed heavily, then turned towards Jonathan. "What can you tell us about how to beat him?" she asked.

"N-not a whole lot, actually" Jonathan said nervously. "Other than that vodniks are water demons, so maybe electrocuting him or something will do the trick."

"That'll pretty much work on any demon that isn't omniscient," Anya replied.

"OK, just..." Buffy sighed again. "Jonathan, stay here. Harmony, go home. Everybody else, keep researching. I'm gonna go talk down a testy vampire."

* * *

It didn't take long to find Spike, as he was doing exactly what he had promised and drowning himself in a bottle of whiskey in his crypt.

"Is there some reason this bothers you so much?" Buffy asked as she walked up to him.

"The 'lil berk deserves to die," Spike sighed, flopping his head back in his chair. "An' you won't let me kill him. Get's me frustrated."

"Because killing him after he came to us for help would be wrong," Buffy said, sitting on her knees on the floor next to Spike's chair. "Tell me this makes sense to you."

"No, it doesn't make a lick of goddamn sense to me at all," Spike said, snapping his head back up to glare angrily at her. "It's his fault you've got a demon coming after you wanting to steal away more bits o' Buffy till there's nothing left! _He's_ the baddie here, no better than Adam or Glory, an' you wrecked them!"

"He's _helping_ us now," Buffy stressed. "He's trying to reform. A little like a certain chipped vampire I know."

"Well..." Spike paused, looking for more excuses. "You were _mean_ to me when I first came to you for help. You chained me up in a bathtub... an' tied me to a chair."

"I'm starting to think you _liked_ all that stuff," Buffy said with a small smile.

"If you tie up that twat I'm gonna get real jealous," he replied, reflexively grabbing at the armrest of his chair.

"Look," Buffy said, taking the whiskey bottle out of his hand and putting it on the floor so she could hold both his hands in hers. "I know you don't have a soul... and that bothers me a little less knowing about the three different pieces of the human spirit and all that. But when you suggests something so totally immoral, it still wigs me out. Do you really not know the difference between right and wrong?"

Spike sighed heavily. "S'like arithmetic, pet. I can understand it on paper. S'just not my gut instinct. Why does it matter?"

"Because since I've been with you... every day has been a little bit less awful than the last," Buffy said quietly. "I don't know if I'm gonna have a magical Kodac moment like in the Bronze where my scars are suddenly healed and I learn to smile again. But the more time I spend with you- the more I let you in... The more the darkness fades."

Spike huffed a bitter laugh. "I _am_ the darkness, love." He shook off her hands and stood up, pacing away from her. "I want you to be happy, pet. I _really_ do, more than anything," he said, not looking at her. "But it kills me knowing that the more I love you, the more I'm driving you out of my reach." He sighed heavily, and turned halfway towards Buffy, but didn't look at her. "At least when that darkness is just a shadow an' you leave me behind, you don't have to worry about my ability to figure out what's right and what's wrong."

"No," Buffy said firmly, stomping up to him so he'd have to look at her. "If I ever make it back into the light, I'm taking you with me."

"Can't go into the light with you, Buffy," he said quietly, turning to face her. "Not my nature. I'll burn up."

"How do you know?" Buffy asked angrily. "You always call yourself the Big Bad, like the real you is the demon inside you telling you to kill and maim and destroy. But when we all lost our memories you didn't try to kill or drink from anyone. You didn't even try to bite me when we were just two strangers making out."

"Jus' 'cause my urge to shag you is stronger than my urge to bite you-"

"When we got our memories back," Buffy cut him off. "Your memories of following what your demon wants you to do reminded you that you've been a monster before. So you think you'll _always_ have to be one. But you have a heart."

"A hundred years of killing is a lot to forget, Buffy," he said, leaning his hips back against the sarcophagus. "I can't pretend it didn't happen and you shouldn't either. Those memories _belong_ to the demon. The demon is sitting where my soul should be, and it combines with all those memories of violence to outweigh my heart."

"You think the violent memories are the ones that define you, but what about your memories as a man?" Buffy asked, bringing her hands up to cup his face. "You were a good man, once. And after you got the chip, after you started to help us and do good... after you started to look after Dawn and help my friends even when I was gone... Those memories are good too. Maybe it'll take a long time to overcome the bad ones, but with William's memories, and Spike's heart, they can outweigh the demon." 

Spike's brows drew together as his eyes darted back and forth between Buffy's. "No matter how much good I do, I'm always gonna have a demon in me, twisting up what's right and wrong," he said. "Always gonna have that desire for destruction, for mayhem. Always gonna be a monster-"

"But I'll treat you like a man," Buffy said, letting her hands slide up to run through his hair. "Because you act like one. It may be harder for you to do good than someone that doesn't have a demon riding on their back, but you still do it. That makes your efforts so much more monumental."

Spike swallowed heavily and let out a quiet puff of unneeded air. "Gonna make me cry, Buffy," he said, bringing his hands up to her waist. "Was nice that you recognized that I was more than just a thing, but," He rested his forehead against hers. "Never thought you'd..."

"Love you?" Buffy asked, finishing his question with a smile.

Spike raised his head to look her in the eyes, his face full of hope, awe, and wonder. "Can you?" he nearly whispered.

Buffy looked back at him, unsure of the answer. Spike had always made her feel... something. But love? How could she love when she didn't have a heart? All the little things that Spike said or did felt like he had taken a needle and sewed the hole in her chest a little bit smaller. But she wasn't _fixed_. Not enough to love him the way he loved her. ...Right?

Just as Buffy opened her mouth to speak, the door to the crypt was flung open and Harmony marched through.

"Spike, before I say goodbye I just wanted to- oh," she paused halfway into the crypt, noticing Buffy and Spike locked in each other's arms. "So this is like a real thing then."

Spike's arms wrapped tighter around Buffy's waist, clearly angry at the interruption. "Why the bloody hell would you think otherwise?" he seethed.

"Well, when you were with me you were pining for the Slayer, and _totally_ still all hung up on Drusilla," Harmony said. "Figured you couldn't focus on one lady at any time."

"I was _always_ focused on one lady," Spike said, looking back at Buffy. "Got hooked on the Slayer near as soon as I laid eyes on her. Just couldn't admit it to myself. Or Dru."

"Well, you were always treating me horribly," Harmony pointed at him. "I don't believe that you would treat Buffy any better just because she has more self-respect than I do."

"I'm evil, you dumb bint. Or," he paused, looking at Buffy as she pulled out of his arms and put her hands on her hips. " _Was_ evil, when I was with you."

"No, Spike, you weren't just horrible to me," Harmony complained. "You're horrible to women in general. You said it yourself. 'Bloody women, bitches who torture you," she said in a terrible cockney accent that sounded nothing like Spike. "Why don't you just admit it, Spike? You're a woman hating monster."

"I'm not-" Spike cut himself off mid sentence and released a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I had a problem with women," he said, starting over. "Because the only one I ever loved treated me as expendable. Hard to not have a low opinion when even the woman you see as the best of 'em, your own personal savior, is as wrong as a person can be."

"What, so you're blaming Drusilla for your misogyny?" Harmony scoffed.

"No. I can't," he said, shaking his head and putting his hands in his duster pockets. "I'm the arsehole that placed my salvation at her feet, plain and simple. Wasn't her fault Angel ruined any chance at humanity she had... But I don't feel bad over it." He raised his head, and his voice grew stronger. "I can't. Just as you can't feel bad over any of the things you've done since being turned. But..." He paused, and sighed again. "I can say that I'm sorry. And promise that I won't treat you like rubbish anymore."

"That's easy to say when you don't have to live with me anymore," Harmony pouted.

"You're basically just making the argument for me at this point," Spike shrugged.

"Ugh!" Harmony shouted, then stormed out of the crypt in a huff.

A long silence hung in the air as Spike rain his hands through his hair in frustration.

"That wasn't very nice," Buffy said at last.

"Yeah well, I'm not nice, baby," Spike said. "Having a heart doesn't just automatically turn you into a nice person."

"You should probably go after her," Buffy replied.

"Why the hell would you want me to go after my ex?" he asked.

"So she doesn't try to come back here again to get more off her chest," Buffy answered.

Spike groaned in defeat. "I'm sure she's got plenty more twaddle to fill my ear with. You're needed back at the shop anyway." He marched toward the door, still clearly upset.

"Spike," Buffy called, stopping him in his tracks. He looked back over his shoulder at her, questioning. Hoping. But Buffy wasn't really sure why she stopped him from leaving in the first place.

"Be careful," she said lamely. It was subtle, but his face fell just barely, before he put on an insincere smirk.

"Sure thing, pet," he said, before turning back around and walking out the door. As he left her behind, it seemed like he took any feeling Buffy had in her chest with him.

* * *

 **So the wall of exposition is a little clumsy, but I'd basically do anything to not bring Riley back.**


	10. Normal At Last

"A squirt gun?" Buffy asked Willow as she inspected the little clear pink plastic pistol.

"Seemed like a little pink gun would be easier to conceal than a water bottle," Willow said with a shrug. "But it's filled with the solution that should make the cup start to oxidize. You'll need to keep the liquid in the cup for ten minutes, and even then it won't totally destroy the metal, just weaken it."

Buffy smirked and lifted her eyebrows. "At this point I'll take what I can get," she replied. "Thanks, Willow."

"You're very welcome," Willow said with a chipper smile. "And Tara's made some great progress getting through the book about the human spirit."

Buffy turned towards Tara with an expectant smile. Tara looked up from her seat at the round table with an overwhelmed expression on her face. "There's... kinda lot to unpack here," she said apologetically. "So I haven't really made _that_ much progress."

"Oh, that's OK," Buffy said, waving her hands. "Just tell me what you got so far."

"Most of this has been just trying to justify Babbage's belief in the existence of the heart as a metaphysical concept," Tara said. "There's not... not a whole lot of proof that it exists. No spells meant to take away or restore the heart, you know?"

"But the vodnik's took Spike's heart, and..." Buffy caught herself before she could admit that for a brief instant they had restored hers. She still wasn't prepared to reveal that she was incomplete to her friends. "And then restored it when the spell was broken," she said. "I don't have any doubt that it's real."

"Neither does Babbage, apparently," Tara said. "But because there wasn't much magical proof that it could be taken away, he never really discovered an easy way to get it back. He worked with some people he suspected had their hearts taken or destroyed, and they only filled that void with love and support over long stretches of time."

"But a person without a heart can't love," Buffy said.

"No, but... I think it's like when you suffer from really bad heartbreak," Tara theorized. "From a breakup... or a death in the family. It takes a really long time to heal those scars, but your friends and family help you get through it."

Buffy sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "When Spike lost his heart he wasn't going to be fixed by friends or family," she said.

"But you said that he didn't try to kill you though, right?" Tara asked. "And that he was even still really fixated on you?"

"I tried to talk him down for a hot second," Buffy said. "He still bit me."

"But not kill you, like a soulless, heartless monster normally would," Tara said. "Maybe the heart is more like a cup. And... and it's never taken or destroyed, just emptied. Maybe you said something to Spike to put one little drop of love in that cup that kept him from killing you."

Buffy was quiet for a long moment. "The vodnik's use cups for their magic," she said thoughtfully. "But you're sure there's no way to fill it up quickly? Sort of like when the Grinch's heart grows three sizes in like a second?"

"Even the Grinch was overwhelmed with the Whos' love and compassion for each other on Christmas," Tara said. "I know it sounds cheesy, but... if Spike loses his heart again, the best thing might be to just drown him in love."

"He doesn't want love when he's like that," Buffy replied, still keeping quiet. She didn't either for that matter. The thought of her friends' love and concern usually made her sick to her stomach, since it was the reason she was ripped out of heaven and all.

"Well maybe... Maybe you have to find out what he does want, and give him that," Tara suggested. "Just start with happy feelings and sneak some love in there over time."

"I should probably go find him," Buffy said suddenly. "He wasn't in a great mood because of Jonathan and Harmony."

"Oh, yeah. OK," Tara said. "I'll keep trying to find out if there's a quick fix for a missing heart."

* * *

Buffy wandered around town aimlessly looking for Spike. He hadn't been at his crypt, her house, the Bronze, or the Espresso Pump. Now she was meandering over to the water fountain where they had first hooked up on the off chance he might be there. The thoughts racing around her head kept her feet moving at a slower pace.

When Spike had lost his heart, all he had wanted from her was blood, which she gave of her own free will. Sure, she had traded her sister's safety in exchange, but she didn't try to stop Spike from taking it after making the bargain. Was that why he didn't try to kill her?

No, she was getting her time line mixed up. Spike had already said he wasn't going to kill her even before she let him drink her blood freely. Their entire battle was just him trying to sneak little sips from her without killing her, which was why it had been so tricky. So what did she give him that stopped him from going full-blown monster? 

Buffy stopped dead in her tracks, only realizing several weeks after the fact that she didn't try to stake him when he lost his heart. The thought of killing him never even crossed her mind. She only cared about keeping Dawn safe and getting Spike back to normal. She had already accepted that he was worth saving.

Acceptance. That was what Spike wanted from her. He even said as much back in the drive to the prize fight. He knew better to expect love from Buffy, but that she could accept him as a man with a real heart instead of a monster... That she had tried to save him rather than immediately trying to destroy him when he lost his heart... That she even admitted to the vodnik earlier that night that she had seen proof that his loving heart was real... _That_ was what he wanted. That single drop of love that kept his heart from being emptied entirely.

So what did Buffy want? What could fill up her heart enough that she could love again? Sex didn't seem like an appropriate answer, even though getting down and dirty made her feel more alive than anything else. But even before she finally slept with him, being around Spike was the only thing that made her feel anywhere close to alright. Was it also just because of acceptance? Because he didn't expect her to try to be OK and that he just let her _be_?

Buffy didn't think just _being_ was going to get her heart back. She thought about that intense, blinding love she felt when Spike's heart was shared with her. He had enough love for both of them. If only the love he was giving her could fill her heart, instead of falling through like a sieve. She sighed heavily, and left it for worrying about on another day. She could see the fountain up ahead, and Spike was sitting on the edge, his hand drifting in the water.

"What brings you back here?" Buffy asked as she approached him.

"Was just thinking," he said, not looking up at her. "Talk about your dark waters a lot. 'Bout you trying to keep your head above the surface so that you don't drown. Seems weird that a water demon is what's comin' after you now, trying to pull you under." He looked up at Buffy then, a pensive expression on his face.

"It's just a metaphor, Spike," she replied.

"So was the heart, once," he countered. "Til we found out otherwise."

Before Buffy could utter another word, a huge splash erupted from the surface of the water, an arm emerging from the shape taking place to pull Spike into the base of the fountain. When the water cleared, the new vodnik was standing there with an arm around Spike's neck, brandishing a makeshift stake that looked like it was made out of driftwood. He looked exactly like the internet nerd that Jonathon had described.

"Oh come on!" Spike exclaimed. "You're makin' _me_ the damsel in distress now?"

"Yeah, what the hell, vodnik," Buffy said, just as angry as Spike. "This place is special to us and now you're gonna ruin it!"

"You have our most sincere apologies about that, Slayer," the vodnik replied, keeping a firm grip on Spike as he struggled in his arm. "We know the stake aimed at your lover's heart suggests otherwise, but we have no ill will towards the two of you. You're a couple of rare, sparkling diamonds, and we wish you two crazy kids could just work things out."

"So maybe let the vampire go?" Buffy suggested helpfully. The vodnik smiled warmly back at her.

"Sorry Slayer, but we're collectors," he replied, shaking his head. "And your soul is one sparkling diamond we just can't let go."

Buffy sighed heavily. "Figures," she replied. "You baddies like to pretend to be all sunshine and lollipops until somebody else has something you want. Then it's all 'I'm gonna steal your memories' or 'let's see how you boyfriend acts without a heart'. And... which one are you, again?"

"Come on, girl," he chastised. "We know you had to have learned _something_ from all our little encounters."

"You have the memories of all three vodniks," Buffy said. "Got it. But what's your name? ReJoin...ker?"

He smiled again at her. "We're the Concluder," he replied with a polite nod of the head.

"So I guess this is ending one way or another," she said.

"Yes," he replied carefully, the tin cup appearing in the hand near Spike's throat. "We've just got to have that Slayer soul. And hey, maybe this rude punk of yours is so dedicated that he will still love you when it's gone."

Time seemed to slow down for everyone as the next moves took place. First, Buffy drew her squirt gun out and aimed it at the tin cup. Then, the vodnik tossed the shimmery liquid in the cup towards Buffy. At nearly the exact same moment, Spike flung his elbow back and broke free from the vodnik's hold, knocking the tin cup from his hand in the process. Buffy had to make a snap decision to dive for the cup and get the rust solution in there, or get out of the way of the magic.

She went for the cup.

Buffy leapt forward, pulling the trigger on her squirt gun the instant the tin cup landed in her outstretched hand. The solution landed in the cup just before she felt a cold splash of another liquid land on her back. She heard Spike shouting her name, and then everything went black.

* * *

Buffy sat up with a start, breathing heavily. She was on the couch in her living room, totally fine. It seemed to be daytime outside now, so maybe Spike had gotten her home the night before and she just passed out.

She instinctively put her hand over her heart. Still beating, even thought that really told her nothing of her metaphysical heart. She recalled the events of the last day, down to the last year. Research party and her sacrificing herself to save the world, so memories still intact. She tried to think about murder and mayhem, and just doing generally evil things. It still disgusted her, so she still had her soul.

So what had happened? Did the Concluder's spell just fizzle out or something? She needed to find somebody to get some answers about what she missed. She threw the fleece blanket off of her and put her feet on the floor, then froze when she heard her name being called.

Except it wasn't her _name_ , exactly. It was a whiny cry of "Moo-oom!"

Buffy looked slowly towards the foyer where the call had come from. Dawn walked in, looking not a day over ten years old.

"I know you wanted me to let you keep napping unless the twins started something major bad, but I'm pretty sure this counts," young Dawn said. "They pried off the loose dining room chair legs again and are using them for sword fighting."

"The... twins?" Buffy repeated absently. As soon as she said it, Buffy heard what could only be described as the pitter patter of little feet, as two little kids scampered into the living room chasing one another with the wooden chair legs. Buffy did a double take, realizing that it wasn't just _any_ two little kids. It was Xander and Willow, roughly three years old.

Their giggling and chasing stopped the second they saw Buffy, and the look of utter shock that must have been on her face. "Uh oh, we woke up Mommy," little Willow said.

"Do you... want to play pirates with us, Mommy?" little Xander asked. He had fashioned a little eye-patch out of some black construction paper and masking tape.

"I, uh..." Buffy trailed off, her brain having left the station.

Little Willow snickered at her lack of an answer, then darted from the living room to run up the stairs. "Hey! Get back here you scurvy dog!" little Xander called before chasing after her.

"Mom? Are you OK?" young Dawn asked. "Do you still have a headache?"

"W-what happened with the vodnik demon?" Buffy asked, trying to get a handle on things.

"Demon?" young Dawn repeated. "Were you having a nightmare?"

So maybe the vodnik had cast a spell on her after all. One that made her a mom to Dawn, Xander, and Willow for some reason. Why would he do that instead of just taking her soul? Buffy looked around the living room. Her weapons chest was missing and everything hinted at just a normal household.

"Um, Dawn," Buffy began slowly, trying to figure out how to ask a ten year old where she kept her weapons. "When I go out at night, where do I keep the stuff I take with me?"

"Whadya mean, go out?" young Dawn asked. "You and Dad lock yourself in your room almost every night as soon as we're all in bed."

Oh, there was a Dad now too. "I'm feeling really sleepy still," Buffy said with a nervous chuckle. "Can you help me wake up and... describe my life to me?"

"Uuuuuh," young Dawn said, clearly confused by the request. "You're... my mom?" Buffy nodded her encouragement to keep going. "You have three kids. Me, Xander, and Willow. Um... You work for a marketing company, managing press releases and publicity stuff? You and Dad had your eleventh anniversary last month. You had a bunch of ones all over the place for decoration, it just kinda looked like you had gone insane or something, ha ha. You do a lot of scrapbooking so it feels like you're always taking a million pictures. Aaaaaaand, we eat dinner in an hour?" she finished.

"Wow... OK, thanks Dawn," Buffy said. "I'm gonna go start getting dinner ready. Can you look after the twins?"

"Suuure," young Dawn said slowly. "Are you sure you're feeling OK, Mom?"

"Y-yeah, just," Buffy stammered. "Just had a weird dream is all."

"All right..." young Dawn mused before bounding up the stairs.

Buffy slowly got up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen as if in a trance. This was her dream life. The husband, the three kids, the PR job... and no slaying. It was all what she used to fantasize about in a normal life before she gave up hope. This was everything that she ever wanted. She didn't have to worry about saving the world and destroying monsters anymore. She just had to worry about making dinner.

She leaned over the kitchen island and took in a shaky breath, before letting it out with a sad chuckle. Of all the spells for the vodnik to use on her, they chose the one that gave her the perfect life? It was a weird decision, but hey, she was gonna enjoy it while it lasted. She turned around and opened the freezer, finding a nice and easy box lasagna she could cook in less than thirty minutes. Even in her dream life she wasn't a good cook. She turned on the oven to preheat, admiring the realism of the spell.

As she was reading the instructions on the box, she heard the doorbell ring three times in quick succession, before the front door opened and slammed shut. A cry of "Daddy!" rang out from upstairs, before she heard the thunder of little legs running down the stairs. Daddy was home.

A mess of emotions rolled over Buffy. It would be nice to have an adult in the house to try to pry some answers from, but she knew who that adult would be. In all her fantasies she had been married to Angel. Once upon a time she might have been comforted by seeing Angel like this. He had planted roots in her heart and would always be a part of her. But now that her attachment to him had left the building along with her heart, she had only the memories to go by. And those memories of the bad variety outweighed those of the good. So when Angel finally walked into the kitchen, she tensed up.

"Hey Buffy," he said, keeping his tone friendly as he moved to lean over the island, grabbing an apple out of the fruit dish and taking a large bite.

Buffy thought he didn't look right in his police uniform. Spike had been all angles and lean muscle, but the details around the shoulders made Angel's already broad frame appear boxy.

"Lasagna for dinner, huh?" he asked, gesturing to the box she had on the counter in front of her. "Bet the kids will love that."

Buffy wasn't sure how to behave around him. Should she play along with this whole scenario and act like a loving wife and mother? She really wanted to milk this normal life thing for everything it was worth while she had the chance, but with Angel? Maybe she could get him to watch the kids while she soaked in the tub or something.

"Yeah," she muttered stiffly. "Hope you like garlic," she added with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh, I can't stay," Angel said straightening up. "I just wanted to snag one of these apples from your tree out back. Way better than store-bought."

Buffy gave him a confused stare just as she heard the shrieking laughter pouring out of the foyer. "Just a sec," she said to Angel as she skirted around him and out of the kitchen.

Buffy froze in her tracks by the stairs. There on the floor roughhousing with the giggling twins with a big, happy grin on his face... was Spike. Natural dishwater blonde, police uniform clad Spike. When he glanced up to see her approach, the smile he gave her was one of pure adoration.

"Hey, kitten," he said, peeling the little kids off of him as he stood up to greet her. "How'd your big pitch meeting go today?"

Angel wasn't her husband. _Spike_ was. Her fantasy had changed. And the surge of relief and satisfaction at this change told her that while Angel might have been rooted in her absent heart, Spike was in her scar tissue, slowly making the void a little less empty.

Buffy resolutely marched up to her husband, threw her arms around his neck, and smashed her lips against his. She expected fire and heat, but instead she saw a flash of white, all of her senses momentarily drowned out in the flash.

When she opened her eyes, she saw empty alleyways speeding by, she felt a hard shoulder pressed up against her cheek, and she heard a soft groan escape from her lips. Buffy only had enough energy to turn her head a bit, and she realized Spike had flung her on his back piggyback style and was running quickly through the darkened Sunnydale streets. He was a bleached blonde again and dressed in his black leather duster, so she must be back in real life.

"Just hold on, love," Spike called out to her once he noticed her stirring. "I got the cup with the rust juice still in it. Probably eating away at the tin right now and those little indents will be holes before you know it. Just try to fight off whatever hell you're seein' in your head right now till then."

Well that wasn't right. The spell the vodnik had put on her was really nice, actually. Buffy tried to speak, tried to correct him. Or at the very least she tried to ask what happened to the Concluder since they were currently running down the street with his cup in tow. But her strength failed her and her vision started to fade.

"The vodnik's strong. Too strong," Spike said, as if knowing part of what she wanted to ask. "Tossed me around like a bloody ragdoll. Had to get us out of there until he's weakened."

Buffy strained to hear him as his voice sounded farther away, until she couldn't hear the sound of his boots pounding on the concrete either. The streetlights went out entirely, and everything went black.

"Eeeeew!" Buffy heard two little kids say when the lights came back on. She realized she was back in her dream life, still kissing human policeman Spike, and pulled back, her hands lingering on his shoulders.

"So good day at work then?" Spike asked with a pleased grin.

Buffy gave him a wide smile. "I'm just really glad to see you," she said, rubbing her hands down his shoulders. She supposed she should be a little more worried to fall back under the spell, but this one was pretty great, and real world Spike seemed to have a handle on things. No use worrying about it.

"I think that's my cue to leave," Angel said, coming up behind them. "Take it easy, Will. Buffy, good to see you." He bolted out the front door before either of them could respond.

"God I love seeing that tosser get all antsy when you're affectionate," Spike said. "You'd think the dozen or so years since you split would have him over it by now. Thanks for that, pet."

A beep alerting that the oven was preheated went off. "Oh! I need to put the lasagna in the oven for dinner to be ready in time," Buffy said. "Can you watch the kids?"

"Course, babe," he replied. "I'll just toss 'em on the swing set for a bit."

Buffy grinned, gave him another quick peck on the lips, then rushed off to the kitchen. She couldn't contain her excitement at the chance to enjoy domesticity and marital bliss. The kids all ran through the kitchen to get to the back door while she took the lasagna out of the box and put in in the oven. Just as she closed the oven door, she felt a hand grab a fist full of her buttcheek, causing her to jump.

Spike wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck, giving her the most amazing lick right near her collarbone. "Just keeping you on your toes," he said under his breath. "I'll be out back with the kids." And with that, he disappeared out the back door.

Buffy gripped the counter and tried to catch her breath. Going by the clues she had picked up in this little fantasy, she had been with Spike for over ten years. It was almost overwhelming being around someone who was so comfortable with her body that the barriers of personal space were non-existent. She could only wonder how intimately familiar he was with the way her body could react to him after all this time...

She set the timer on the oven, then wandered over to the back door with shaky legs to peek out the window. Spike was pushing the twins on the glider swing, practically glowing in the sunlight. The smile he wore wasn't the pouty smirk or saucy leers she was so used to seeing him throw her way, he was genuinely happy. Spike, devout lover of chaos and mayhem, was happy with a normal life of domestic bliss.

It was Buffy's fantasy after all. It wouldn't be much of a fantasy if her husband was miserable. But there was a gnawing desire inside her to reconcile the Spike she knew to be real with her fantasy husband. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't like she and Spike could get married and have kids in the real world, or that it was something Buffy even wanted with him. No, Buffy wanted to bring the real world into the fantasy, to make the fantasy more real. Plus, the real Spike was fantastic in bed. She had to make sure that part of him carried over too.

Dinner went quickly, mostly from Buffy shoveling down her food and rushing everyone else through it. Every time Spike looked at her with those eyes promising the sinful stuff he would do to her later, she moved a little bit faster.

After getting all the kids in their PJ's, Buffy hopped in the shower for a quick rinse while Spike read to the kids and put them to bed. When she emerged squeaky clean and wearing a fluffy pink nighty under her robe, she found him already in bed with a book, wearing nothing but a set of low riding pajama bottoms and a pair of reading glasses.

Buffy couldn't stop herself from flinging herself on the bed, only just containing her eagerness before she nearly landed on top of him. Spike was sure to give her a wild ride if she wanted it, but she had to remind herself that she wanted to make sure this was still the _man_ she wanted first.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Buffy said, scooting up on her knees next to him.

"Course," he said, taking off his reading glasses and setting them on the nightstand with his book. "What's on your mind, love?"

"Are you, um," Buffy paused, not sure why she should feel uneasy asking the question of a fantasy person. "Are you happy? With this life, I mean?"

Spike squinted at her and raised a disbelieving brow. "I have a fearless valkyrie for a wife, three crafty sprites for children, and I get to be a viking of the people for work. Why the hell would I be unhappy?"

"You don't wish you could be more... chaotic?" Buffy asked. "Unchained? Wild?"

"What, you worried I'll revert back to my rabble rousing salad days?" he asked, his confusion turning into a knowing smirk. "You bloody well know I'm just a fool for love. Not much more I need in life than you and the little bits." He took her hand in his and rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumb.

"But that thrill for mayhem," Buffy said. "That warrior inside you... It can't just... disappear."

"Well, that's why I get to bash some heads in at the Double Pound Arena once a month, innit?" he said. "'Sides, bein' a cop's a bit like bein' a warrior of justice. Just a lot more of the keepin' the peace variety."

Buffy smiled at him, satisfied enough with his answer that she could still see the real Spike in there.

"Spike," she said quietly.

The growl he held low in his throat reminded Buffy more of the monster he wasn't supposed to be in this fantasy than the man. Considering the jolt of electricity it sent running all the way down to her toes, she knew she didn't mind.

"You haven't called me that since we were datin'," he said, his voice husky.

"Wanna make it a date night?" she asked. "Without the date part though."

"Always," he said, guiding her hand down to his groin to cup his already stiffening erection. Buffy gasped at his boldness. Spike was always _bold_ , but he'd been clearly holding back with all his worry of getting his heart broken. _This_ Spike wasn't worried about rejection or Buffy's lack of heart. He had ten years of swagger, confidence, and experience screwing his wife. Maybe in that way, this Spike was more unleashed than the real one. He couldn't go around fighting whoever he wanted, but he could _love_ who he wanted. And all he wanted was her.

In a way, this Spike was more real. More true to his nature. And God it was hot.

"Did I ever tell you how sexy you look in your police uniform?" Buffy asked, her own shyness getting the best of her as she pulled her hand away.

"Only every single day, pet," he replied, his grin turning cheeky. "Speakin' of the uniform... I had a little chat with the captain today. Sounds like I'm on the right track for making detective by the end of the year."

Buffy blanched. "Will you lose the uniform?" she blurted our before thinking to offer any words of encouragement. Spike couldn't help but laugh at her reaction.

"Could never do that to you, love," he said. "That'd be like you throwing out your red riding hood costume."

"Red riding hood?" Buffy asked, confused.

"Well, yeah," he said slowly, climbing on top of her. "Wouldn't want to cage the big," he said kissing one side of her neck. "Bad," he continued, kissing the other. "Wolf," he finished, pushing her bathrobe out of the way and giving a gentle bite to her collarbone.

Buffy gasped, half in pleasure, half in realization. How she never made the connection to Spike always calling himself the 'Big Bad' and little red riding hood, she wasn't sure. She really wanted to track down her old Halloween costume and put it on to see his reaction, but Spike was already unwrapping her bathrobe like she was a Christmas gift.

"Mmmm," her purred, leaning down over her once she was left in only the slinky nighty. "What tiny clothes you have, my dear."

Buffy surged forward to capture his mouth with hers, unable to restrain herself any longer. The kiss triggered another flash of blinding white light, and she was back with the other Spike. The one who was fully clothed and wasn't about to make love to her.

"No," Buffy pouted quietly.

"Oh thank the powers that bloody be," Spike said, crouching down in front of her.

Buffy looked around at her surroundings. She was on the floor, her back up against the wall, in what looked like a closed bar. No, not a bar. A hibachi restaurant with a bar in one corner, judging by all the stovetop tables in the building.

"You went catatonic on me for a minute there, love," Spike continued, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Dunno what's goin' on in your head right now, but you've got to hold on to whatever you got left. Stay Buffy. Don't let them turn you into a zombie."

"Spike," Buffy whispered, her eyelids feeling like lead. "Is this real? Are _you_ real?"

"Yeah, I'm real," he responded, moving closer to try to get her to see him. "Focus on me, on my voice."

Spike looked so worried. No trace of the cocky swagger he normally had, just... fear. Even when his own life was in danger she had never seen him like this. Was this _really_ the true Spike? The vampire who was in love with her? Didn't it make more sense for her human husband to be the real one and this was just some crazy dream?

"I don't know which one to listen to," Buffy murmured, the two realities starting to blur in her mind.

"Me, love," Spike said, leaning in to hug her tightly.

Buffy sighed into his embrace, as the world started to fade away. When she came to again, she was back in bed, kissing her husband Spike.

"God I love kissing you," he murmured against her mouth. "Could kiss you a million times... Could kiss you for a hundred years... Your mouth will always feel like heaven. Never grow tired of it."

She pulled back and smiled appreciatively at him, feeling herself almost glowing at the relief from returning to this fantasy. _This_ was where she wanted to be, in the arms of the man who loved her, without worrying about the safety of the world or her metaphysical defects. She just wanted this love, and to show him what this kind of peace of mind meant to her.

She flipped them over so that she was on top of Spike, then gave him a kiss that she hoped would really knock his socks off. Whatever that means. She wanted to show him how she was feeling. This _had_ to be real. Only the real Spike could kiss like this, could make her feel like her heart could feel again. She snaked her way down his body, pulling his pajama pants down with her. Spike looked down at her, his lower lip between his teeth. Whatever cheeky comment he was about to make died on his lips as Buffy took his erection into her mouth.

"Christ, Buffy..." he moaned. "You're such a bloody perfect woman, you know that?" He had thrown his head back and gripped the pillows around him, clearly restraining himself from just thrusting into her mouth.

Buffy licked him from base to head, wanting nothing more than to bring him to life the way he did for her. She used every trick she knew, though she had to admit that wasn't a whole lot. Still, Spike seemed to be enjoying it, as he had been reflexively clawing at the bed sheets and thrashing his arms whenever her tongue performed a pointed little twist. His breathing grew heavy, and if Buffy didn't know any better, she would have thought she was torturing him.

"Buffy, I need-" he cut himself off with a gasp, before reaching down to her shoulders and pulling her up face to face. He gave her a frenzied kiss and lifted her nighty over her head, careful not to tear it. Instead of proceeding to the wild animal sex like Buffy was expecting, he flipped her around so that her thighs were framing his face, and proceeded to bury his tongue in her heat.

"Oh my G _od_!" Buffy shouted.

"Shh, pet," Spike hushed against her lower lips. "Don't want to wake the twins."

Buffy bit her lip and clenched her hands in her hair in an attempt to keep quiet. She had never had a guy do this for her before. It had been strictly missionary all the way up until Spike, with the exception of her little bit of oral experience. The sensations that Spike was giving her with his lips and mouth on her now though was beyond anything she had ever imagined. She opened her eyes wide as he lapped at her, almost unbelieving at how good this felt.

Then she realized what position Spike had put them in. His erection was right in front of her, and if she adjusted just a little bit, she could be pleasing him the same way he was pleasing her. So she went for it, and took him into her mouth once again.

With her hands running up and down his thighs, she had the sensation that she was totally in control of Spike's pleasure, even while he was driving her to new heights with his massage of a lifetime. Buffy felt almost delirious with lust, never having felt more erotic in her life. It was like she had climbed to the top of a mountain, and gotten far away from that black water. Up here, there was only her and Spike. So when they fell, they fell together in one joined, crashing climax.

When they collapsed back on the bed, Spike had flipped her around again so they could lie face to face, smiling happily at her. Buffy stared in awe at Spike, the way he so often stared at her. She felt totally fulfilled. It wasn't long ago that she had resigned herself to the Slayer life, knowing she could never have this. But now that she did, it was even greater than she had ever imagined.

Her vision started to fade, and Buffy rubbed her eyes to try to stay awake, wanting to bask in the post-coital glow a little longer. But as everything started to grow dark, and Spike seemed to slide farther and farther away from her, she realized she wasn't falling asleep. She sat up with a start on the bed, suddenly surrounded by darkness.

"Spike?" she asked in a panic. "William?" She groped around in the spot where he should have been, but she felt only a cold featureless surface. Even the bed was gone. Buffy scrambled to her feet, spinning around to try to find something for her eyes to focus on. But every direction she could see was completely black. She was in a total void.

Somehow, Buffy knew with perfect clarity, that all this darkness was her heart.

"Spike," she whispered into the emptiness, trying to fight off the despair that threatened to crush her.

"You can't have this life," a voice whispered back, the sound coming from all around her. "You never will." As Buffy strained to hear the disembodied whisper, she realized that was _her_ voice speaking to her.

"You can never be normal," the whisper continued. "You can never rest. You are doomed to fight until you die."

"I _did_ die," Buffy argued back. "Twice! That's enough to have earned a little vacation at least."

"The Slayer doesn't earn anything," the voice said. "Not love, not money, not happiness. The Slayer is a weapon. Weapons don't get rewards or earn a time out."

" _Spike_ loves me," Buffy countered. "We have an amazing life together, with three beautiful kids."

"Spike isn't real," the voice argued back. "That man's love doesn't exist. All you have is the love of a monster."

Buffy shook her head, getting confused for a moment. Her husband wasn't real? He was her partner in life, her support structure, her backup. Why was the voice trying to take that away from her? Why was the emptiness so determined to make her be alone?

She couldn't hold back the tears now. She had fought alone for so long against the whole world. She didn't want to lose this amazing love when she had only just discovered it.

Buffy fell to her knees, sobbing. "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, her voice cracking. "Why can't you just let me be happy?"

"You know why," the voice answered back. "You don't deserve to be happy."

Buffy sobbed harder, feeling the sting of truth behind those words. She _knew_ she didn't deserve it. She even rejected Spike's love for a long time, refusing to accept it as genuine. Why should she get to keep it now?

Right, Spike was a vampire, not her husband, Buffy realized as a little bit of clarity came back to her. But whichever life was fantasy and whichever was reality, Spike's love was a constant. _That_ was real no matter where she was. He was going to love her whether she deserved it or not.

 _That_ was why the voice was doing this to her. She had this amazing, beautiful, rare love from a creature that shouldn't even be capable of it, and yet he loved her all the same. It was an amazing gift, and the voice wanted to take it from her, to make her forget it was real. It was trying to break her, to make her give up.

But why? Buffy was already broken. She was heartless. Why did the voice need to push her down even more? Why didn't the vodnik just take her soul and get it over with already?

"Buffy, please."

She heard another voice. One that sounded like it was coming from very far away, but was unmistakably Spike's. He sounded worried, like he was on the verge of breaking himself.

"Come back, baby," Spike begged. "I know this life isn't easy. I know it's hard when so much is missing. But it'll get better, I promise you... I will _make_ it better. Just like you made mine better."

"Spike?" Buffy called out into the darkness, hoping he could hear her.

"I thought I had nothing left before I fell for you," Spike continued as if she hadn't spoken. "You'll get there too. Even... even if it's not with me. You can love again. I _promise_ you'll love again."

Buffy's heart ached as he bargained with what was probably her lifeless body on the floor of a restaurant. She wished she could answer him back, tell him that he was already helping her to get better.

Buffy froze. Her her heart ached.

If it ached that meant she could feel. She had a heart. It was small and frail, covered in scar tissue, and nearly empty, but it was there. Spike had been filling it up slowly, drop by tiny drop, with his overwhelming love for her. And she only just now had enough to feel it aching for him.

The vodnik was trying to destroy her heart, to empty out that little splash of love in there so they could easily take her soul. To ruin that tiny little bit of hope she still clung to.

Because she was in love with Spike, too.

Spike had been in love with her for so long and she refused to believe him, because of what he was. Then, when she had been falling in love with him all this time, she couldn't believe it because of what _she_ was. But his love was real, it brought her back to life. And now, so was hers. She felt that tiny powerful seed of love sitting there in her chest aching, longing for him, and she knew it was genuine. Buffy wasn't going to reject it anymore.

"I won't be broken," she said to the void. She stood up and wiped her eyes, giving her best Slayer face to the empty blackness around her. "My heart might be damaged and weak, but it's growing stronger every day. Because I love Spike. The real Spike. I accept that love now, and it's going to keep growing until my heart is stronger than it ever was before."

The world flashed white again, and when it cleared away, she was back in the hibachi restaurant with Spike's arms wrapped around her in a painful grip.

"Spike," she croaked out.

He pulled back and put his hands on her shoulders, looking into her face. His eyes were wet with tears as he looked her over. "Buffy," he whispered, his hands coming up to frame her face as a watery smile replaced the hopelessness in his eyes. "I thought they had beaten you, love. Tell me that was the worst of it."

"I... I think so," Buffy said, bringing up her hand to place over his. Her limbs felt sluggish and heavy, but she mustered up a smile for him.

Spike leaned his forehead against hers, breathing out an unneeded sigh of relief, before pulling her into a tight embrace. Buffy let her eyes fall closed and breathed him in. That leathery smell was heavenly right about now.

When she opened her eyes again, the Concluder was standing right in front of her, driftwood stake in hand.

* * *

 **If you've been following along with the chapter names, you may notice I skipped Hells Bells. The momentum of the story just pushed me straight into Normal Again.**


	11. Empathy

Panic lanced through Buffy's newly rediscovered heart at seeing that the vodnik had found them.

"We were _going_ to let you keep your unlife, vampire, since you're such a rare find," the Concluder said.

Spike spun around and put himself between Buffy and the vodnik at the sound of his voice, which was exactly what Buffy _didn't_ want him to do. She looked around frantically for a weapon, her eyes coming to rest on the tin cup sitting right beside them on the floor. There was still liquid in it, and it looked like it had started to rust on the inside. Hopefully it had been soaking long enough to destroy it.

"But we need that Slayer soul," the vodnik continued. "And we can't take her heart when it's so anchored to you. Luckily, she's already revealed the only way to ruin that heart once and for all."

As the Concluder raised the stake up high, Buffy pulled every last ounce of energy she had in her exhausted body and coiled it in her leg, releasing it just before he could bring the stake down on Spike. She kicked the tin cup hard, sending it flying right into the vodnik's face, snapping his head back from the impact. The punctures weakened by rust gave way, bursting open into little holes all over the cup and letting all the liquid contained inside spill out.

"No!" the Concluder cried out, catching the ruined cup in his hands. It wasn't going to be holding anymore liquid any time soon.

Buffy instantly felt the after effects of the spell wear off, as strength surged through her body. She quickly leapt to her feet and gave the vodnik the strongest kick she had. He went flying across the restaurant and into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar, before he fell to the floor out of sight behind the bar counter.

"Better watch your drinking problem," she said. That joke was so bad even Buffy felt the sting of it. Maybe she should give her heart more time to recover before she jumped headfirst back into the quipping game.

Spike grabbed her hand and tugged. "Come on, let's get outta here."

"No, we gotta take this guy down once and for all," Buffy said, turning on the lights in the main dining room from the switch on the wall behind her. "Or he'll never stop coming after my soul."

"Love to, pet, but we don't have the slightest idea how to deal with this tosser."

Buffy looked around the restaurant frantically, her eyes coming to rest on the hibachi stoves. She ran over to one, turning on the unit. "Help me turn on all these stovetops," she told Spike.

Spike looked from her to the other tabletop stoves in the restaurant, realization dawning on his face. "You know I burn too, love," he said, flipping the switch on the unit next to her.

"You'll just have to be very dodgy," she replied, moving from stovetop to stovetop.

Just as they had the last unit on, the Concluder stood up from behind the bar, a highball glass in each hand. His whole body was soaked, like he was leaking water from every pore.

"Breaking the cup only breaks the spell, you airhead," he said, the sound of his voice coming out almost like a gargle. "I can use any cup available for my magic, and you led me to a _restaurant_ , of all places."

He swirled the glasses in his hand, making them somehow fill with the shimmery liquid from the bottom. Once they were full, he flung the liquid out towards Buffy and Spike, forcing them to dive behind the hibachi stove counters.

"So," Spike said to Buffy, grabbing a couple of chef's knives out from the table underneath the hibachi stove. "Should probably smash every glass we see."

Buffy opened her mouth to answer, but then stopped short when she saw that more vodniks were rising from the wet spot on the floor where the shimmery liquid had landed. Instead of all looking like the Concluder though, there were a bunch of copies of the Seeker, the Refiner, and the Joiner.

"Oh, you guys again," she said, springing up and giving an effortless kick to one of the Joiners before ducking back down. She did a double take when the Joiner didn't explode in a splash of water like they had in the battle at the Bronze. He had instead only rippled, his splashy insides protected by some sort of rubbery coating, almost like a jellyfish. "Well, darn," she said. She pushed a rolling cart full of spatulas into the open space of their table enclosure, setting them up with a nice little table fort.

Another splash landed just in front of one of the stoves, and more vodniks started to rise up out of the puddles on the floor as Buffy kicked the nearby vodniks, trying to get past the cart blocking off their little  
space.

"We gotta take out the Concluder's glasses before we figure out the rest of these guys!" Buffy urged Spike.

"Can do," Spike replied. He stood up lightning fast, slicing at a vodnik's gut that was blocking his aim. The vodnik doubled over, giving Spike a clear line of sight to the Concluder. Spike held the dual chef knives up straight for about half a second, before letting them fly, smashing right into the glasses in the Concluder's hands. The Concluder hissed at the shards of glass that pierced his hands, and Spike ducked back down while he was distracted.

"Right, what next?" Spike asked, snatching a pair of metal spatulas from the rolling cart and turning to Buffy. For a moment she could only look at him with her mouth agape.

"God, I want you so bad right now," Buffy replied.

Spike bit his lip and grinned, lunging towards her. "Save that thought, kitten," he whispered, before nibbling on her earlobe. Buffy let out a squeak in a pitch she didn't know she was capable of, then pulled back.

"Wait, you threw the knives," she said. "We could have used those with all these vodniks."

"The spatulas don't throw as well," he replied, standing up from behind the counter. "But I bet they'll get the job done with these stir fry." He spun the spatulas on his fingers like a couple of six-shooters, before smacking a charging Seeker hard across the face with one, his face rippling from the impact.

Spike jumped up on the table, legs spread wide to avoid standing on the stovetop, and began kicking back any vodniks that charged towards them. Buffy jumped up behind him to look around the restaurant, her eyes landing on the vodnik Spike had slashed across the stomach. He had his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, trying to hold back a torrent of water flowing from his gut. He looked like he was slowly deflating as the water poured to the floor.

"Spike!" Buffy called. "Try to cut off one of their arms or something!"

As a Refiner climbed up onto the table to try to get to them, Spike grabbed the demon's arm and brought the sharp end of the spatula down hard on his bicep, slicing the arm off entirely as it cut through the rubbery membrane. The vodnik cried out in pain as his arm landed right on the stovetop, exploding in a burst of steam as it quickly evaporated.

"Yuck," Buffy said, stepping back from the steam to avoid inhaling any. "Turn on the hood."

"Get some fresh air in here, shall we?" Spike said, flipping the switch on the range to help clear the air.

Water poured out of the injured vodnik's shoulder wound, and he seemed to melt and deflate for a couple of seconds until he just dissolved entirely in a splash to the floor.

Buffy leapt over the stovetop to an adjacent hibachi table, and grabbed a pair of spatulas herself. "Time to cut the cake," she said.

"S'more like a jello, really," Spike said, slicing off the head of another vodnik.

"Look, I'm still rusty with the quips, OK?" she said, slashing out with a spatula to catch a vodnik in the thigh, dropping him to the floor.

Spike and Buffy began slicing up vodniks, not even bothering to finish them off as the water poured out of them onto the floor. Blunt hits like punches or kicks were basically as useless as hitting a water bed, but the metal spatulas did just fine at cutting through their protective barriers.

A clinking sound got Spike's attention, and he turned to see the Concluder pulling out some more glasses from behind the bar.

"The Concluder's 'bout to make some more, babe," Spike called to Buffy. "You gotta take out the papa jellyfish while I hold off the jelly beans."

Buffy's focus zeroed in on the Concluder, the fight around her seeming to slow down as she scoped him out. He had wrapped some paper bar napkins around his hands, but they were pretty clearly leaking water. He could probably be taken out the same way as the rest of the vodniks, he would just be stronger and faster and could do who knows what with the magic juice in his cups.

Buffy was resolved to finish this. She was weaker than she'd ever been when taking on a big bad, she had been under a massively affecting spell only a few minutes before, and she only had a tiny bit of heart to give her courage. But comparing this fight to the fights in her past life was pointless, she wasn't that person anymore. This was her new life now, and she had never felt stronger since being revived. Even the tiniest splash of love that she felt was better than the emptiness that usually haunted her. And she was going to draw on the strength that love granted her for everything it was worth.

Buffy spied a decorative scroll hanging from a pole stand near the wall, so she snatched it up, tore the scroll off, and snapped the hanging bit off the pole. "Yay, new weapon," she cheered.

She approached the Concluder slowly while he was trying to get a more solid grip on the glass with napkins wrapped around his hands. He was so distracted that Buffy was able to swing the pole down and smash the glass in his hand, startling him out of his task.

"Well, that was just rude," he said, looking up at her.

"So is trying to destroy my heart and take my soul," Buffy countered, moving closer now that he didn't have any liquid to throw at her.

"You got us there," he said, holding his hands up in submission. "Listen-"

Before he could utter another word, Buffy swung the pole sideways at him as hard as he could, sending the Concluder flying out from behind the bar and away from the easy supply of glasses.

"So we guess you're not interested in talking about the nature of the human spirit anymore?" he asked, standing up.

"I did my own homework," Buffy said, moving towards him. "And I'm sick of your spells being the price of that info."

The Concluder managed to grab the pole as Buffy got closer, yanking her forward and hitting her hard in the chest with the palm of his hand. Buffy flew back and landed on her side, the wind totally knocked out of her and the pole lost to the demon.

He hit _hard_. Harder than Buffy could. And there was something in her pocket poking uncomfortably up against her hip. Buffy caught her breath when she remembered Spike's gift. She could use this. But only if she could just get the Concluder over to one of those stoves...

Buffy rolled to her feet and dashed to the nearest stovetop, shoving some vodnik's out of the way in the process. The Concluder casually meandered after her as she dove towards one of the carts, snatching up a pair of spatulas.

"You know, we don't really see the point in holding on to that tiny scrap of love," the Concluder said. "You have miles to go before you can fully recover. Wouldn't it just be easier to give up now?"

"You're an idiot," Buffy said, trying to maneuver them so that he was nowhere near Spike. "Why would I give up at the start of an amazing cross-country journey right when I hit the road? If anything I would just have to backtrack to make sure I locked the front door before starting out again."

The Concluder stopped in his tracks and squinted at her in confusion. "What does that even mean?" he asked, shaking his head at her.

"I don't know..." Buffy shrugged. "I'm not good with metaphors!"

Buffy swiped out at his jugular with the spatula while he was confused, only for him to catch her by the wrist and slam her down face first on the table, inches away from the stovetop.

Apparently he was _faster_ than her too.

"There is another way to take a person's soul, though it's fairly distasteful," he said, looming behind her as he twisted Buffy's arm up behind her back. "As the soul is leaving the body after being killed, it's up for grabs. You're not giving us a lot of choice here. We really don't like killing."

Buffy panicked, not because she was afraid that the Concluder was about to kill her, but because she saw the look on Spike's face. It was the one that told her he was about to charge over and help her, and she knew that the Concluder would rather take the option of destroying Spike instead. She had to act fast.

"Well I got no problem killing demons," Buffy said, flinging her legs up behind her. She ended up flipping both her and the Concluder onto the table, with his left arm landing right on the stovetop. He shrieked that horrible gargling sound as his arm immediately started steaming. There was a loud hissing sound, and Buffy looked up to see the left arms of all the vodniks evaporating away at the same time. Everyone in the room froze in realization, and Spike and Buffy looked at each other for the span of a single heartbeat.

Before she could react, Spike dashed towards Buffy, dodging and weaving through the horde of vodniks. Buffy could practically feel her heart seize as the Concluder sat up and faced Spike with murderous red eyes. She realized all too late that he had a pair of wooden chopsticks in his hand. She had to take this guy out _now_.

Buffy pulled the wood tipped spiked knuckles out of her pocket and hastily slipped them on her hand. Spike's eyes went wide at the sight of them, forcing him to change course at the last second so that he dove towards Buffy instead of the Concluder. Buffy flipped off of Spike's shoulders as he landed harmlessly on the table, and landed a spiky punch right in the Concluder's jugular. He let out a gurgling cry as water started to pour out of the side of his neck, bringing his hands up to try to stop the flow. Buffy gave him one last kick to the face while he was distracted, planting him smack in the middle of the stove.

The scream coming from his mouth sounded like a tea kettle whistle as the rest of him evaporated on the stove top, the remaining vodniks turning to steam along with him. Buffy hissed and pulled back when she realized her leg was still on top of the Concluder, and had now come into contact with the hot stove as his body disappeared into thin air. She scooted back off the table and nearly fell onto the floor butt first when her back collided with Spike.

For a very brief moment, she felt like she was back in that dream where he was there in the coffin with her, the sense of panic threatening to overwhelm her. Before she could dwell on it, Spike spun her around to wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"Buffy," he breathed into her hair. "They're gone. Gone for good."

She released a heavy sigh of relief, happy to have landed in Spike's arms after the whole crazy ordeal. "I don't have to worry about drowning anymore," she said. She only just realized that in that last moment to take down the vodnik, she was more concerned with keeping Spike safe than herself. She really did love the rude punk.

"No, pet," Spike replied, shaking his head. "I'll keep you afloat. Let's get you home."

"Yeah, I'm totally beat," Buffy said. "I wouldn't mind curling up in bed for about a hundred years."

"Dunno if I can keep away from you that long."

"Well, you _could_ curl up with me," Buffy offered, sensing her adrenaline starting to fade. "I could use a big spoon." Buffy could practically feel him smiling into her hair.

"I make a damned good spoon," Spike said. "You'd have found that out by now if you could ever sit still for half a second."

Buffy's vision started to darken again, but this wasn't like the effects of the spell earlier. She just felt like she was running on fumes and her exhaustion was starting to catch up to her.

"I hope you don't mind carrying me to bed," she slurred, right before she passed out completely.

* * *

Buffy woke up from the sun shining in through her bedroom windows again, and she was met with a pleasant lack of disappointment at having to open her eyes. Or at least, she wasn't disappointed at first, until she realized Spike wasn't in the bed with her. She was pretty sure she had felt thoroughly spooned as she slept the rest of the night away, so where had he gotten off to?

She immediately got to work getting cleaned up and dressed so she could head downstairs. She was glad that she had made some effort to make herself look presentable, because pretty much everyone was waiting for her downstairs in her living room, even Harmony and Jonathon. Everyone that is, except Spike.

"Buffy! You're awake!" Dawn cried, hopping up from her seat when she saw her sister coming down the stairs. "Spike told us about what happened with the Concluder. You're still _you_ , right? He didn't manage to sneak away your soul without Spike noticing or anything like that?"

"Nope, still regular ensouled Buffy," she replied with a weak smile as her friends all stood up and crowded around her. "Is Spike still here?"

"You were asleep for about three days, and we ran out of blood," Xander replied. "He went to go pick up some more just before sunrise. I think he mentioned needing to check on something too, I dunno. He was doing that cagey British thing."

"Buffy, are you gonna be OK?" Willow asked, stepping closer. "Spike said the last spell was pretty rough on you."

Buffy sighed and sank down on the couch. Her friends were worried about her again, and that concern still felt like a heavy weight on her shoulders. Her first instinct was to smile and just say that everything was totally OK. But that little shred of heart she had kicking around in her chest wanted her to open up instead.

"There's... something I haven't told you guys," she began slowly, as everyone else took a seat around her. "When you brought me back from the dead, you didn't bring all of me back in one piece. I came back without a heart."

"Oh god..." Willow murmured, looking like she was about to cry. Tara took her hand and looked back at Buffy with pleading eyes, silently begging her to continue.

"So that's why..." Xander said, letting himself trail off.

"Why what?" Buffy asked.

"Why you're able to be... involved with Spike," he finished. "Your heart wasn't in it."

"No, I'm able to be with Spike because he loves me," Buffy corrected. "He's actually helped me get a little bit of my heart back. It's not much, but it's there, and that's thanks to him. All this time, he was giving me _his_ heart without asking anything in return."

"Um hello?" Harmony interrupted. "A vampire's heart doesn't beat. You'd think the Slayer would know that."

"Harmony, why are you still here?" Buffy asked.

"Well I figured my assignment to get you information wouldn't count if you got killed," she replied.

"Well, I'm alive," Buffy said. "You can go now."

"It's daylight outside," Harmony complained.

"Fine, whatever," Buffy replied. "Just stop talking."

"We weren't asking _anything_ of you Buff," Xander insisted, getting back on track. "No more than Spike was."

"You sorta were," Buffy replied. "You wanted assurances that I wasn't different," she said to Xander. "Peace of mind that I was OK," she continued, looking at Willow. "And inclusion in what I was going through," she finished, turning to Dawn.

"I just wanted my sister back," Dawn said. "You were acting so different."

"Because I _am_ different," Buffy said. "My heart was missing. I was filled with this... crushing emptiness, and most days I felt like I was drowning. At first I thought I was just broken from dying a second time, but the Joiner at the Bronze told me my heart was gone, and his spell let me feel Spike's heart for proof of what it felt like to have a heart back. All the research we did the other day just clarified stuff."

"Buffy... I'm so sorry," Willow said, the tears flowing freely now.

"It's OK, I'm getting better. Tara, you were right," Buffy said, turning to her. "The heart is kinda like a cup. Mine had been emptied and punched full of holes, so it couldn't hold anything in, didn't _want_ to let anyone in. Spike kinda snuck in when I wasn't looking and had been helping me patch those holes up until I could hold a little bit of love."

"But why Spike?" Willow asked. "Why couldn't it have been _us_ you let sneak in?"

"I think... it's because I had never let Spike in before," Buffy said. "I had always seen him as this monster that wasn't capable of loving me, that I was safe from loving him. It made me let a little bit of that guard down, and by the time I realized his love was real he was already in."

"So how do you get the rest back?" Anya asked. "You just... hang around Spike a lot?"

Buffy was quiet, unsure of any answer other than what that little bit of feeling in her heart was guiding her to. "Sifting through all these clues about what it means to be human, to have a heart, a soul, and memories... I realized something," she began. "I'm not defined by what's wrong with me. There's more to me than the pieces that I'm missing, so I still have a lot left to give. And just because I've been damaged, doesn't mean I can't try to heal, to get my heart back."

"We want you to get your heart back," Tara encouraged.

"And I will," Buffy said. "By giving it away."

"How does that work exactly?" Xander asked.

Buffy shrugged. "I have to be willing to love again. Even when I can't. Even when I want to hold on to my bitterness, I just have to stop and let everything in. I have to be willing to _feel_. To not hide from you all anymore. Because I can't heal if I'm internalizing."

Buff stood up from the couch, and spread her arms out wide. "So this is me, reaching out. Asking for your love again. To make up for the lack of mine, until I can give it back." 

"Oh Buffy," Willow sobbed, before flinging herself into Buffy's open arms. Everyone else followed suit, surrounding Buffy in a giant group hug.

"Do I get love too?" Jonathan asked, standing tentatively outside the circle of hugs.

"No," Buffy, Willow, and Xander all said in unison.

"In fact Jonathon, now that the vodnik is gone, you don't really need to hang out here anymore," Buffy replied. "You should probably think about leaving once you have all your things in order."

"I like straightforward Buffy," Xander said, his voice muffled from the middle of the group hug.

Though Buffy wasn't exactly comfortable, for the first time in a long time she didn't feel suffocated by her friends. And that was a step in the right direction.

* * *

Buffy couldn't find Spike anywhere. She had dressed up in her gingham red dress and cape and added some sexy lingerie and white thigh length garter stockings, intending to see if she could thank him in a very special way for helping her take out the vodniks. All she had found in the graveyard were a couple snarky vampires that were promptly staked for their inappropriate comments.

He wasn't in his crypt, he wasn't hanging around the graveyard, and he wasn't anywhere around the Bronze.

Buffy had actually given up and plowed through the back door of the Magic Box to take out her frustration on the punching bag. Except that Spike was there, his duster tossed aside, currently wailing away on said punching bag.

"There you are!" Buffy exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Spike released a heavy sigh and put his hands on the bag to stop it from swinging. He turned to face her with a look of resignation. That is until he saw what she was wearing. His hands tightened on the punching bag. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide, while his eyebrows drew down to appear deathly serious. He looked like she just told him he had gotten her pregnant.

"What-" he paused to clear his throat. "What ya wearin' there, pet?" he asked.

Buffy gave him a coy smile. "This old thing?" she asked with a cutesy shrug. "Just my little red riding hood Halloween costume from a couple years back. I wondered if you might want to play the Big Bad one last time before I make you serve the side of good forever."

Spike's hands tightened on the punching bag so much that the chain snapped, and the bag hung loosely in his hands. He looked back at the bag in embarrassment before tossing it aside, and turned back to Buffy.

"I, uh... I thought you were with your friends," he said. He looked like he was straining to stand still.

"I was," Buffy said, taking a step forward.

"And... And it seemed like a good time to tell them everything," Spike continued.

"It was," Buffy replied, taking another step. "I did."

Spike broke eye contact to look at the floor, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Figured the only way you would tell them about your heart was if I wasn't there for you to lean on," he said quietly. "Sorry 'bout not being there when you woke up."

Buffy stopped advancing on him. "Ooh, that's a dirty trick," she said, crossing her arms. "But I guess it worked. You were definitely the first thing on my mind when I woke up and I wasn't looking forward to seeing my friends."

"So how'd it go?" he asked, looking back up at her.

"Good. Great," Buffy said. "We're all gonna heal together now," she added with a shrug.

"I'm glad Buffy," Spike replied with a casual nod of the head. "You should probably go back to being with them."

"OK, what's the deal?" Buffy asked. "I thought you wanted me to open up to them."

"I did," he said. "Was bound to be the best way for you to get through all this black water. But I'm never gonna like being a part of that group."

"You don't have to," Buffy said, taking another step closer. "You just have to be with me."

"I'd like nothin' better," he said, turning away from her. "But you've got a bit of that sunshine back. I can smell it on you, this intoxicating forbidden scent that I can't have. It was never meant for me. You should be with your fellow flower children."

"You're an idiot, you know that right?" Buffy said, putting her hands on her hips.

"What-" Spike sputtered, turning back to her. "I'm trying to do right by you here!"

"Well, you're doing it wrong," she replied.

"I'm trying to let you blossom and grow and all that rot," Spike countered. "To give you your space."

"No, I want you _filling_ my space." Buffy cringed. "That sounded way different in my head." She sighed, stepping towards him once again until she was standing right in front of him. "Look, a while ago, you said I had a dark current running beneath my surface. Which is funny because the vodniks were water demons, and filling a heart is kind of like filling a cup with water. It's like it's all connected or something."

"You've got a bright ray of sunshine piercing that water now," Spike said pointedly.

"Just... let me get this out, OK?" Buffy said. "I've had a lot of revelations over this whole thing." She took a deep breath and put her hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes.

"Water is life," she began. "It's movement, it's energy, it's nourishment. Maybe my stream of consciousness is a bit darker since I've come back from the dead, and I've wanted to reject that. Reject my new self because it wasn't who I was before I died. But for me to grow my heart back, for me to _ever_ love my friends again... For me to fully love you. I have to love myself. And be OK with the fact that I'm never gonna be the old bubbly carefree Buffy ever again."

Buffy slid her hands up to his neck, relishing the feel of his skin against hers. "Even if I get the rest of my heart back, I'm always gonna be darker than before," she said. "But a dark current is still better than no current at all."

Spike took in everything she said, his face a mixture of concern and hope. "What do you mean the rest of your heart, love?" he asked.

"I think I got a little piece kicking around in there," Buffy answered with a one-shouldered shrug. "The part that loves you. It's not much, and I don't know if I'll ever get it all back. But what I have, I hope you'll accept." She smiled sweetly at him. "Because I do love you."

Buffy was yanked forwards as Spike's hands suddenly appeared on her hips, and his mouth was pressed against hers in a passionate kiss.

Holy cow was his kiss amazing when a pinch of love was added to the mix. She had felt it before, when the Joiner's spell had let her feel Spike's heart. But this time it was her own love coloring the kiss, and it made it even more incredible. There was definitely a fire cracker in there somewhere. She could only imagine the firework show that would grow into as her heart healed.

Spike pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "Have I ever told you I love you?" he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Only like a million times," Buffy grinned. "In a million ways. I don't think you can look at me without your eyes pouring out adoration."

"You'll never get rid of me now," he said, his lips dipping down to plant soft kisses along her jawline.

"Spike," Buffy breathed, suddenly remembering her human husband from when she was under the spell. "Can I make love to you?"

"Don't exactly need to ask, pet," he murmured against her throat. "We make love all the time."

"No, we have wild, frenzied, heat of the moment sex," Buffy corrected, pulling back to look at his face. "I want to be gentle. I want to worship your body. I want to love you."

Spike looked like he had just seen heaven. "Oh," he said simply.

"Can I?" Buffy asked again.

"Y-yeah," he replied, almost shyly.

Buffy guessed Spike didn't get a whole lot of intimacy from the heart, what with most vampires being soulless and heartless.

Buffy smiled softly at him and untucked his shirt, pulling it off over his head. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly just below the jaw, licking and nipping at where his pulse would be if he were alive. She moved down to his collarbone, planting kisses every inch of the way, before continuing on to the corded muscles in his chest.

Spike's chest was heaving with unneeded breaths, and his hands were gripping her hips so tightly it almost hurt. He might have been restraining himself from that wild sex frenzy she had mentioned earlier. Maybe she was asking too much of him to hold back while she was wearing the red riding hood outfit.

Except there was something _really_ exciting about getting to torture him like this.

Buffy pushed him down slowly to the ground, letting her skirt ride up as she straddled him so he could get a peek of her sexy garter stockings. He definitely noticed, since the bulge in his pants she was sitting on twitched beneath her.

Spike leaned forward to kiss her, but Buffy put her hands on his shoulders to push him back down. He hadn't made it to her lips, but he had captured the tie of her cape with his teeth, and slowly pulled it undone so that the cape slid off her bare shoulders. The look in his eyes as he undressed her with his teeth was so fiery that it drove Buffy a little crazy, and she scratched hard at his bare chest. His responding growl was pure animal.

"Sorry," Buffy breathed, leaning down to kiss his chest again.

"Don't apologize for enthusiasm, love," he replied, putting his hands on her thighs.

Buffy let her hands slide down as she kissed and licked at his chest, absolutely loving the feel of his abs against her fingers. She lifted up her hips as she moved her hands down to undo his belt, and Spike took the opportunity to sneak his hands up her thighs and tear her underwear away. He didn't waste any time in massaging her right where she needed him most.

Buffy moaned at the sensation, and instinctively bit down on his chest. Hard.

At Spike's reactionary groan, Buffy sat up. "I'm sorry," she said, breathing heavily. "I can't seem to stop myself."

"Why are you trying to?" Spike asked with an incredulous smirk.

"Because I want to be gentle," she replied. "To show you I love you."

Spike sat up with her to get closer to her face. "Love doesn't have to be gentle, Buffy," Spike said. "Love can be every bit as painful or kinky as you want it to be. Don't force yourself into a little vanilla box just because you think missionary is the most pure form there is. If you want to be an animal in the sack because that's how the Slayer shags then I'm more than willing to keep up."

"So... biting, scratching, hair pulling?" Buffy asked. "You're OK with me loving you that way?"

"Just basic foreplay," Spike said with an amused tilt of the head.

"Hmm," Buffy mused, sliding her hands behind his head to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. "What about hitting and spanking?" she asked.

Spike pulled Buffy forward and began slowly nibbling on her neck. "Just don't pop me in the nose and I'm game for anything." He found the zipper on the back of her dress and carefully pulled it down.

Buffy let her hands glide slowly down his back. "What if I put on a black latex corset and tied you up?" she asked, sneaking her hands around to his front to free him from the confines of his jeans.

"I'd kiss your feet and beg for more," he replied huskily, lifting Buffy up and slowly lowering her back down onto him until he filled her up completely.

Buffy flung her arms around his neck and began kissing him wildly. To hell with restraint. She moved up and down on him, enjoying him the way she wanted to enjoy him. Loving him the way she wanted to love him.

"Tell me more," Spike growled when she had freed his mouth to kiss near his ear. "Tell me what you'd do with me if you could live out your deepest, darkest fantasies."

"I'd..." Buffy answered between breaths as she rode him. "I'd blindfold you and handcuff you to the bed," she said.

"More," Spike urged. "Do whatever you want with me."

Buffy threw her head back. She wasn't sure there was a list long enough of the things she wanted to do with Spike, and she was so close to the edge...

"I'd torture you with feather light touches until you're quivering beneath me," she said, imagining everything she was saying as she picked up a furious pace. "I'd wrap my hands around your throat, and you won't even need to breathe. I'd try out every pose in the Kama Sutra. I'd make you my love slave..."

Buffy cried out as she felt her shattering release wash over her. She was dimly aware of Spike groaning in unison with her as the tidal wave of pleasure washed over her, before she collapsed forward onto Spike's chest and everything went dark.

When she came to a few moments later, she felt Spike stroking her back lovingly.

"I think I kinda blacked out there," Buffy muttered sheepishly. "Did you get to finish?"

"Hard not to with your muscles clampin' down on me like a vice," he replied. "You could drain me dry, Buffy."

Buffy took a deep breath and basked in the afterglow. It wasn't like how she felt in the fantasy life when she was under the spell. She didn't feel perfectly fulfilled and trouble free. But she felt amazing nevertheless. She felt different. And the first time in a long time, she felt _good_ , physically and emotionally, without being under the effects of a spell. This was was real. And that was amazing.

She sat up on her elbows and looked Spike in the eyes. "You know, I'm not sure I'll actually like any of that stuff I mentioned. I just kinda rattled off stuff I'm curious about."

Spike leaned forward with a grin and caught her lower lip with his teeth, before giving her a soft kiss.

"And I can't wait to find out together," he said.

* * *

 **The End! Please review if you enjoyed it. :)**


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